


Yes Captain

by levele3



Series: Yes Captain [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Smut, Dom Captain Hook Killian Jones, F/M, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Sex Club, Sexy Times, Smut, Sub Emma Swan, The Captain - Freeform, Voyeurism, dub-con, undercover cop emma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma goes undercover to infiltrate a sex club but doesn't anticipate the effect the club's procurer will have on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Safe Words

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. The warnings are for Dub-con, explicit language, and graphic scenes of a sexual nature. I label it Dub-con because as Killian say's he will never ask her permission, but Emma knew what she was getting into when she took the case and gave her consent by proxy.

The first time Emma saw Killian Jones, aka The Captain, he was naked from the waist down, a busty brunet with her ruby lips stretched around his cock. The woman was scantily clad in a red silk and black lacy corset her long hair pulled back from her face was grasped firmly in Jones’ hand. She was sucking his cock like her job depended on it, and Emma supposed it did. He was draped idly over a divan, not really paying attention to the woman worshiping his member.

He was carrying on a conversation with one of the men of his security detail, but stopped abruptly when Emma was escorted into the room. Emma was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans that hung low on her hips and a crop top that showed off her midsection and enhanced her cleavage. Her swan pendant necklace was her only personal item.

Emma felt his eyes rake over her body, appreciating the skin she had on display. She shivered under his scrutiny, but it was his job to make sure the girls were fit. Emma had to remember to breathe when he pulled the girl’s mouth from his generous glistening length. This was for a case she reminded herself. In and out, two weeks undercover tops.

“Is this the one you were telling me about?” he asked one of his goons, his voice dark and husky with lust, and decidedly not American.

Emma felt her knees buckle just a little bit. How could he just sit there with his cock out, or receive a blow job while in a room with three or four other people? The man did run a sex club, Emma finally reasoned, his underlings had seen him in far worse states of undress. Emma tuned out the conversation between The Captain and Mr. Smee. Instead she tried to look anywhere else in the room except for the long hard, still dripping cock in front of her.

“See something you like?” The Captain asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Emma gave him a sly smile, lustfully hooding her eyes, but gave no verbal response. She had been warned by Smee not to say a word to The Captain.

Infiltrating Neverland had been months in the planning, she would not ruin it on her first night. Neverland was actually owned by the elusive Mr. Pan whom no one ever saw, the business side of things was run by his right hand man Felix Nightshade and the girls were acquired by Jones.

The cherry lipped girl at Jones’ feet leaned forward again to continue her earlier ministrations but he dismissed her, standing and pulling up his Jeans and zipping the fly. He was wearing a black dress shirt that showed more of his hairy chest than it covered and a red and black brocade vest over that. A long gold chain hung around his neck and the charms on it were down to where his shirt was actually buttoned.

“Take her to my private rooms, I want her ready and waiting for me” he ordered.

As Smee led her down a long dimly lit hallway Emma knew what was coming, she had signed up for this knowing she could handle a little abuse. The Captain always had new girls to himself before handing them out to clients. He wanted to know what they were best at or specialized in.

It had been a while since Emma had sex with a partner and she knew she was tight, she expected this to give her bonus points but he was huge, she was suddenly reconsidering her options. There was no way he wouldn’t have her tonight. Even with another woman’s mouth around him she had seen the way his eyes lit up at seeing her. He regarded her as if she were a feast for a starving man.

“If you’ll be so kind as to wait in her miss” Smee said opening one of the many doors along the hallway. _Shit_ Emma lost track of how far down the hall she was, she looked at the door for a clue but it was numberless.

“These are The Captain’s quarters, he’ll be along shortly.” With that Smee left and Emma took stock of the room she found herself in.

It wasn’t an overly large room, the floor and walls were done in wood making the room look like a cabin on a wooden ship. In one corner was a mini fridge and bar, it was mostly stocked with fancy rum and one bottle of white wine. There was a large carved mahogany desk in the center of the room and for a moment Emma wondered if this was Jones’ actual office, but there was no paper work on the desk, only a globe and a sexton. Emma decided the desk was more for show, or to be used as a prop to have sex on. Against the left wall was a large and comfortable looking bed. The head board was made of wooden posts that Emma could easily imagine was used for restrains and bondage play. The room was lit only by six wall sconces spaced out around the room.

Emma startled when the door opened but breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing it wasn’t him. A friendly faced elderly woman entered the room carrying an armload of corsets and costumes.

“Hello there dear, how are you tonight?” the matronly woman asked her.

“Good thank you, a bit nervous.” Emma replied honestly.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of nerves” she said laying out the outfits on the bed, “now dear what should we put you in?” she asked, tapping at her chin.

Emma came over to inspect her options, she was rather fond of a blue and black corset but it was too similar to what the other woman had been wearing and Emma really wanted to make an impression on him. If she was good enough he might keep her to himself for a while and that was Emma’s goal. She would be privy to all kinds of information if he chose her to be his arm candy for the next two weeks. She could even handle being his personal sex slave if it meant not having to pleasure anyone else.

“How about that one” Emma asked pointing to a white feathered number.

“Ooh, that is a good choice” the elderly woman cooed holding it up to Emma.

The outfit consisted of two pieces, string bikini style, except the whole thing was strung with soft, white feathers. It covered nothing. Emma’s toned midsection was on full display, her hard red nipples poking through the feathers ‘covering’ her breasts. The feathers tickled her bare mound and Emma thanked whatever deity that was listening that she had remembered to shave today. She was perched on the bed, her long legs tucked up underneath her, back arched to push her chest forward.

Just when Emma was sure her legs were going to fall asleep the door opened and he entered. His hair was damp and he was dressed in a long black fleece bathrobe. The man had showered before coming to see her, and Emma shifted her legs a bit at the thought of him wanting to be clean for her. His hair looked sinful and Emma longed to run her fingers through it but held restraint.

He virtually ignored her as he made his way across the room to his well-stocked bar, and poured himself half a glass of rum. He took a few sips just standing there before finally walking over to the edge of the bed, and setting down his glass on the nightstand there. Emma had done a thorough search of the nightstand drawer and found it to be full of condoms and lube.

“You may have heard the other’s referring to me as Mr. Jones, but to you I am The Captain. If I ask you a question you are to reply ‘yes Captain’ or ‘no Captain’ is that understood?” his voice serious and business like.

“Yes Captain” Emma replied, perhaps a bit too eagerly, she was suddenly ready for this night to be over.

“So lass, what’s your name?” He asked casually, his wicked voice affecting her in ways it should be illegal.

“Whatever you want to call me, Captain.” She replied, looking at him sideways through half closed lids.

He came around to the front of the bed and really looked at her.

“I like your choice of outfit, very bold” he declared, “makes you look like a swan” he continued more to himself than her.

“That’s what I’ll call you, Swan. Do you like your new name?” he asked.

Emma tried hard not to gulp, he was eerily close to her real last name, “yes Captain” she replied not taking her eyes off him.

“Good” he said, flashing a crooked grin that made heat pool between her legs.

He was dark and mysterious, exactly her type of man. Her rational brain tried to tell her this was all part of his act, all he had to do was snap his fingers and women would line up to suck his cock. Emma watched him as he moved back around the bed, taking another long sip of his drink before climbing up onto the bed.

Emma trembled with anticipation; waiting for him to touch her was absolutely nerve wracking. Instead of coming to her he propped up some of the extra fluffy pillows and lay back against them.

“Come lay beside me Swan” he offered, patting the space next to him.

Emma rolled effortlessly onto her knees and crawled up the bed, making sure he had a good view of everything, his eyes never left her body, and she smiled on the inside pleased she had captivated him so early in the game. She settled herself down on her side, propping herself up on her arm, pushing her breasts forward into his face.  

“These are the rules” he said, his voice serious again, “this is my private room, if you get called in here it means I want you, and I always get what I want. Sometimes I like it rough; I won’t ask your permission for anything, if I ask you ‘do you want to suck my cock’ it is a rhetorical question. If there is something you desperately object to you may use the word ‘crossbones’ to get out of it. Also you are not allowed to kiss me, that is too intimate an act for what I run here. If I want to kiss you, then I’ll do so and not before. Is that understood?”

“Yes Captain” Emma was pleased to see he at least had some form of moral code.

“Now, do you want to suck my cock?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow and his voice taking on a leisurely tone.

“Yes Captain” Emma said in a voice that was safely between seductive and eager.

He pulled open his robe and Emma shimmed back down the bed to straddle his thighs. He was completely nude underneath the robe and Emma took a quick minute to enjoy the sight laid out before her. His chest was well toned and boasted a few scars; a particularly nasty one ran over the left side of his chest, where his heat would be. The dark hair Emma had spied earlier trailed all the way down leading straight to the base of his cock.

Emma could practically feel her eyes dilate just looking at him. His cock was already at half-mast and Emma wasted no time bringing the pink head into her mouth. Instantly Jones groaned out his pleasure, as if he hadn’t only just received a blow job an hour ago, not to mention he probably jacked-off in the shower.

After a few gentle sucks Emma removed her mouth completely, but before he could protest Emma licked a strip up the underside of his cock, right along the thick vein that ran there, base to tip. Emma licked up the sides a few times, making sure his length was good and slippery before engulfing his head again and bringing up her hand to join in. She alternated between loose and firmer strokes bringing her hand up from the base to meet her lips. She shifted a bit to get a better angle and began to bob her head taking in more and more of him every time she went down.

She was used to verbal lovers, men who really liked to tell her what to do and how to do it. She had lost count of the guys who forced her head down on them making her gag, and they weren’t near as big as Jones. Other than the odd moan he gave virtually no response, it was almost like he was forcing himself to stay still. Emma realised he was purely trying to gage her skill, and not actually enjoy the act. Well that had to change. She took a chance and looked up at him, his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, simply taking in the sensations she was causing, well that was no good. Blowjobs were always better if the people involved were making eye contact.

Emma pulled off him again, but kept her hand going, bringing it all the way up and rubbing her thumb across his sensitive head. He was leaking pre-come; that was a good sign. He hissed as Emma did it again, pulling a little too hard this time. She bent her head to her task again, and this time looking up at his face she licked straight across his leaking slit, Emma watched with joy as he opened his eyes wide and felt a twinge of pride when he looked down and saw her looking back at him.

They continued like that for a while more Emma pulling out all the stops as she twirled her tongue around his head, maintaining eye contact. He could no longer act unaffected, she heard his breath hitch, more than once and his chest was now rising and falling from his aroused breathing. He moaned again when Emma ever so gently brushed her teeth against him, causing him to jerk his hips up.

“Bloody hell woman” he cursed, and Emma was glad to register the note of want in his voice.

“You can stop Swan” he said, bringing his hand to her head. She pulled off and he trailed his hand down her cheek, sticking his thumb in her mouth instead.

Instantly she let her eyes fall shut and began sucking his thumb with renewed vigour.

He made a choking sound and Emma opened her eyes to see him watching her.

“Fuck, I have to have you, now” he ordered. Jones jumped up and shed his housecoat completely dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. He wretched the bedside table drawer open and pulled out one of the many condoms and quickly put it on himself.

“Are you wet for me Swan?” he asked, “touch yourself.”

Emma perched up on her knees and slipped a finger under the string that cut into the apex if her thighs. Good lord she was dripping.

“Yes Captain” she moaned as her finger slid around in the liquid arousal she was coated in. How hadn’t she noticed, since when did giving head make her so wet?

He convened with her back on the bed, and she removed her finger just as he shoved his whole hand down the front of feathered bikini bottoms. He wasted no time instantly slipping two fingers deep inside her.

“Fucking hell, your soaked, you little whore” he cursed, “Sucking my cock made you that wet for me?” he whispered the last part, like a lover would, his lips brushing her ear.

“Yes Captain” she said moaning again as he crooked his fingers finding her g-spot.

“That’s a good girl” he whispered huskily into her ear, leaning close. “Fuck, I don’t know how I want to take you.”

He pushed her bottoms off, and then brought his fingers up to her mouth, “lick” he ordered, and she did.

Emma swirled her tongue in between his fingers and all around, sucking every last drop of her essence from them.

When he pulled them out his hands were instantly on her breasts removing the feathered top. She watched in silence as he just looked at her for a moment in reverence before latching his mouth to one of her pert nipples causing her to cry out. Damn that felt good. The tip of his tongue flicked wickedly at her erect nipple and Emma longed to sink her fingers back into her wet heat.  

“Come, ride me” he ordered, lying back down in the position he had before. “I want to watch those gorgeous tits of yours bounce as you fuck yourself on my cock.”

Emma groaned and this time when she crawled over to him she could feel her wetness running down her leg, and every time she brushed her legs together her clit got a little friction making her squirm.

“That’s it darling, come on” he whispered encouragingly which was strange to hear his wrecked voice when he had been so quiet earlier.

Emma crawled up his body and slowly impaled herself on him, taking in his great length inch by inch letting him really fill her up in the best way possible. “Fuck you’re tight” he groaned as she finally sheathed him inside her.

He let her set the pace, really giving her control by allowing her to ride him cowgirl. Emma switched it up often changing from hard and fast to soft and slow. Riding him until his cock almost slipped out of her leaking cunt then settling down and swivelling her hips. The whole while he cursed or moaned, and expelled praise. She manipulated the angle so his head brushed against that secret spot inside her, pulling a curse of two from her own lips. He fondled her breasts, rubbing them, teasing the nipple, she wanted him to suck them again, she wanted him to suck other places too. 

When she was so close she could taste it, their moans filling the room, Jones gave the command for her to touch herself. Emma slid her hand down rubbing her finger over her sensitive nub, causing her to quicken her pace. Their movements were erratic now Jones hips pushing up into her as she ground down on him, with a shout Emma finally came her own sweet release pushing The Captain over the edge as well, as her walls fluttered around him. Emma could feel him pulsing deep inside her and she shivered with joy at the boneless feeling now creeping up inside her.

“Good job Swan that was very satisfying” he announced in a voice that was pure sin.

Fuck. Emma didn’t know if she could handle two more weeks of this. Two weeks of mind blowing sex. Of being used by the man whose boss she wanted to shut down.

“I want you here waiting for me again tomorrow night” he said getting up and removing the used condom, he tied it and tossed it in a small garbage can by the bed and re-donned his housecoat.

“Yes Captain.”


	2. The Hook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand, I have no idea where this is going but you are all welcome to come along for the ride.   
> I was going to change the story title to "Safe Words" and use "Yes Captain" as the chapter title for chapter one, what do you think? Or do I keep it the way it is?

Riding a bike my ass, Emma thought bitterly as she waddled into work the next morning, it was more like riding a horse. She felt used, but in the best way possible. After slipping his robe back on Jones had finished his rum and left the room without another word. Emma had lain on the bed until the older woman from earlier returned with a bowl of hot soapy water and her clothes.

When she rounded the corner and stepped into her office the whole room erupted in applause and wolf whistles. Emma did a mock little bow, she had never received kudo’s for getting laid before, but when a mission depended on it everyone got excited.

“I take it last night was successful?” Mary Margret asked as Emma sat down next to her.

“Is it that obvious?” Emma asked her partner, in a sardonic tone.

“Sweetie, you’re glowing” she replied, “I want to hear everything” she gushed.

“I don’t” inserted David Nolan, whose desk was across from theirs.

“What did he do? What did he make you do? Did you enjoy it?” her partner asked excitedly making Emma raise her eyebrows. Mary Margret was usually shy and reserved about these types of things.

“Are a fine example of some of the things I don’t want to know” David quipped.

“Agent Swann” Regina Mills called from her office door, “my office, now!”

“Tell me later” Mary Margret pleaded.

“Later” Emma said before going to Mills’ office.

“So, I heard last night was a success” Mills said as soon as Emma entered the room, not giving her a chance to say anything.

“Yes” Emma agreed.

“What I want to know is why I didn’t hear it from you” the terse woman raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve only just arrived” Emma reasoned, “my intention was to write you a formal report on last night and hand it into you, how did you find out?”

“Jefferson” she replied shortly.

Special Agent Jefferson Hatt had been their inside man for months now, dropping hints about the kind of women he wanted to see at Neverland in the hopes they’d hire Emma.

“Jefferson was there last night? I didn’t see him” Emma said.

“He saw Jones’ associates bringing you in through the side door” Mills explained.

~~~~***~~~~

Belle was standing at the front of the room, a power point slide show behind her. Emma and the others were huddled around her.

“So” she began “by now everyone knows we’ve had a major breakthrough with the Neverland case last night.”

Another round of cheers went up and Emma blushed, thankful for the darkness of the room.

“We finally got our girl Emma on the inside” Belle continued. “This is just a quick briefing to go back over the facts and solidify how we will proceed.”

“Let’s not lose sight of why we started this inquiry, a woman was murdered” Mills reminded everyone.

“Right” Belle agreed, “Mia Jones nee Cassidy was brutally murdered in an alley way when she was out walking with her husband Killian Jones.” Belle hit the button to change the slide and brought up a picture of Mia Jones.

The woman was pretty Emma mused with long dark hair that was sleek and shiny, her smile was big and bright. No wonder, the picture on display was one from her wedding day, a well-dressed Mr. Jones standing next to her. How he has fallen Emma mourned the loss of the man he once was, the man she never knew. Darkness clouded his eyes now that wasn’t present in the picture.

“There is no proof Mia ever worked for Neverland, but her father never approved of her running away with Jones and blames him for her death. Her father Mr. Robert Gold is the one who brought this case to our attention. He believes there is something more sinister going on at the club.”

“If Jones was with her when she was attacked, why wasn’t he killed too?” David asked, rather perceptively.

“He didn’t escape the attack unscathed, but that is why her father suspects him. Mia Jones’ heart was ripped from her chest while she was still alive, we believe that whoever attacked her knew her and this was some form of personal revenge to make Jones suffer.” Belle changed the slide again and it was a close up of a man’s chest with a bright angry red scar cut diagonally across his left breast, starting at his shoulder and running clean down to his breast bone, just missing the nipple.

Emma knew that scar, she had seen it only just last night, it was Jones’, but this was when it had been raw and fresh, now it was a white line.

“Emma are you alright?” Mary Margret whispered to her and Emma realized she must have audibly inhaled at the sight of Jones’ scar.

“Yeah, fine” she whispered back.

“That was six years ago, no one took Mr. Gold’s claims seriously though. We were redrawn to this case with the more recent disappearance of two international university students almost two years ago.” Belle changed the slide to that of two girls both with dirty blonde hair and in their early twenties.

“Alice Lynn went missing on July fourth and Wendy Darling four months later on November fourth.” Belle explained.

“Miss Lynn lacked regular contact with her family back home; they didn’t even know she was missing until some days later. Her roommate Anastasia Tremaine was the one to alert local authorities to her disappearance” Belle said.

“How do we even know they’re still in Neverland or even alive?” Walsh asked, ever the sceptic.

“Because Jefferson has seen them” Belle changed the slide again and more recent pictures of the girls appeared. They were blurry and dark, probably taken on Jefferson’s cell phone, from inside the club.

“Miss Darling had a very close relationship with her family, in contrast to that of Lynn. She has two younger brothers who moved here in hopes of finding her” Belle explained, “they regularly check in with the police for similar cases to that of their sister. Last night another girl went missing, we will send out a missing person’s report to the media in hopes the brother’s will come to us to share their information.”

“Who went missing last night?” Mary Margret asked concerned, how did the FBI know another girl was missing before the police did?

With a cheeky smile Belle changed the slide again, “Miss Anne Bonny, age 28, a local girl who was trying to make it working on the streets.” Emma smiled as she looked up at the picture of herself. “Her employer reported her missing when she didn’t show up for work this morning. That’s you Mary Margret; we’ve set up a direct phone line that they can call to reach you at. He’s your information.” she added handing the other woman a manila envelope.

“Miss Swann would you like to share with the class?” Agent Mills asked, and Emma with no other choice obliged.

Emma stood and moved to the centre of the room taking a deep breath before beginning her speech.

“Jones’ position in the club seems to be that of the Hook, a role he takes very seriously. It is part of his ‘job’ if you will, to procure women for the club, or ‘Hook’ them into. He might pretend to date them, and then slowly introduce them into the club, before suddenly announcing they work for him now. We believe that’s how Lynn and Darling were lured into it. If they try to leave or call for help threats are made.” Emma explained.  

“So how did you get in, you didn’t even meet Jones until last night.” Walsh asked.

“Jones’ has a crew of men working solely for him, they go out and prowl the streets looking for women for him to appraise. With some help from Jefferson one such scout was pointed in my direction.” She clarified. “From what our intelligence can gather Jones is quite high in the clubs’ hierarchy, Pan certainly gives him lots of leeway where the girls are concerned.”

“There are three levels to the club” Jefferson said coming to stand beside her, and Belle changed the slide to show the club’s exterior from the front.

“The main floor consist of the actual strip club and bar” he continued casually, “it runs like any other, the show girls, as well as the waitress can all be purchased for a time. There are two private rooms on the man floor for bachelor parties each consisting of their own mini pole stages, and another room that I believe to be Pan’s office, although I’ve never seen him there.”

Belle changed the slide again to a picture of the club’s website promoting its excellent service. ‘Neverland: where dreams come true’ their slogan read.

“The upstairs floor” Emma piped up, “is what I like to call ‘office space’ that is where the private rooms are. I was brought in through a side door that opened directly onto a stairwell leading up. At the top of the stairs is a long hallway that runs the length of the building. Fifteen or twenty doors line this hallway, some are numbered, but most aren’t. I’ve been in two of the private rooms, the first door on the left Jones’ was holding court with a few of his lackey’s.” she explained not wanting to go into the detail of what she saw there.

“Were there any girls with him?” Jefferson asked.

“Yes, a brunet.” Emma replied.

“That is Ruby Lucas, she’s his old faithful if you will” Jefferson inserted, “In the club she’s known as Red. Every time a new girl is hired Jones’ is the one to break them in, that’s part of his job. He spends anywhere from one night to a week with them, I’ve never seen him with a girl for more than three nights in a row. When he’s done with the new girl, he goes back to Red. She is the most expensive girl in the club, hardly anyone else can afford her.”

“My goal is to be the new Red for as long as possible” Emma confirmed, “the longer I’m with Jones the more I can find out. I’m to meet him again tonight, but as early as tomorrow I could be on the floor.”

“Jones’ will parade the new girls around the club at least once, making sure everyone gets a good look at them.” Jefferson concluded.

“Any questions?” Emma asked not really up for this Q&A session, she had to get home and get ready to go back out again.

“You said the club has three levels, what’s in the basement?” Walsh asked

“The basement is an open concept playroom, by special invite only, or if you are a member of the exclusive couples’ club. Basically kinky couples go there for anonymous sex with strangers; they too are allowed to use the upstairs private rooms, for a fee.” Jefferson explained.

~~~~***~~~~

Emma was face down on the bed, her arms stretched out before her; wrists cuffed to the posts of the headboard, and a black silk scarf covered her eyes. In the quiet darkness she had lost track of time, had she been here ten minutes, or an hour. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the little golden bullet between her legs. The devious little machine had her on the edge for ages now but it wasn’t enough to bring her over.

She was wearing a red leather corset that cut under her breasts causing them jut out. It also made her back bow in a way that forced her naked ass in the air. Fuck, where the hell was he?

Without warning there was a hand on her back and Emma instantly tensed up.

“Try something new _darling_ , it’s called trust” a husky voice whispered in her ear. Emma was actually relieved to know it was Jones, but she didn’t remember hearing the door opened and wondered how long he had actually been in the room for.

She felt the bed dip behind her and got her answer when he leaned over her and she felt his long hard member rub against her bare ass. She pictured him causally sitting in the stiff looking wooden chair behind the desk idly stroking his cock while he watched her wither on the bed. She moaned.

“Fuck love, watching you squirm while this little toy works you up gets me all hot and bothered.” He confessed, his bare cock nudging against her again as he leaned closer to her ear.

“Let’s see how wet you are for me tonight” he said, and without further warning he pulled out the bullet and shoved in two of his long, eager fingers.

A puff of air escaped Emma’s lips at the pleasant intrusion and she push back against him.

“Gods Swan, you’re fucking dripping” he exclaimed thrusting his fingers in and out of her. “A man could drown in your ocean love.”

Emma moaned again as he changed the angle and, weather by accident or on purpose brushed his thumb against her clit.

“Such a greedy whore” he said when Emma’s inner walls clenched around him.

Just as suddenly as they were there his fingers were gone and Emma bit her tongue in an effort not to call him out on it. This was his game, and she had to play along. He had to believe she was compliant, obedient even. Then she heard him sucking and oh hell, he was tasting her, licking her juices from his own damn fingers, fuck. She could feel a renewed wave of wetness at that thought.

“Delicious” he hissed low in her ear and Emma jolted at his proximity. The stubble on his cheek bristling against her ear, making her shiver in an not all together unpleasant way.

“Have you been a good girl today?” he asked conversationally.

“Yes Captain.” She replied automatically.

“I doubt that” he said sardonically “I doubt that very much. Surely there is something you’ve done today I can punish you for?”

Emma said nothing, not sure if she was supposed to reply to that or not.

“Your arse looks like it could use a good spanking” he said. “It’s all round and perfect, stuck up in the air like this, just for me.”

His voice was liquid sin Emma decided, something that could be bottled up and sold to the highest bidder.

“Do you want to be punished?” he asked, his hands beginning to explore the curves of her ass.

“Yes Captain.”

Without warning the gentle rubbing stopped and his hand came down hard on her left butt cheek, jolting her forward. He smacked her again and again until she was sure her whole ass was bright red, red enough to match her corset and her wrists chaffed from the restraints. She was leaking again, her proof of enjoyment trailing down her leg. It was a nice change to be the one receiving punishment. Emma was usually a take charge kind of woman.

She startled when a rough tongue ran up the inside of her leg, and continued up to the source. Jones’ tongue did wicked things to her clit causing her hips to make encouraging movements. It didn’t matter her bare ass was still stinging, exposed as it was, as long as Jones’ tongue was filling her up. She moaned again and he instantly stopped, coming back to himself, and she realized he had gotten lost in the act, this wasn’t what he had intended to do.

“You taste so sweet I couldn’t help myself” he said coyly removing his head from between her legs. “Now I think you’ve waited long enough, and God knows I have.”

In the span of a few seconds he was gone and then back again, his condom covered cock edging its way inside her. “I won’t be gentle” he warned before slipping the rest of his impressive girth deep inside her. His hands firmly grasping her hips in away Emma knew would leave bruises.

This was more like what Emma had imagined last night would be like. Still blindfolded, still bound, Jones pounding into her from behind, pushing her shoulders into the bed. Her passageway would be even tighter from this angle and he moaned loudly as he took his pleasure. Emma still hadn’t come once in all the time she had been here this night and be damned if she was leaving unsatisfied.

She rocked her hips back, actively encouraging him. He reached down and fondled her breast in his large rough hands, pinching at the nipples. Fuck she was so close, she knew he would be finished soon. She moaned loudly when he pinched her right nipple particularly hard spurring him on.

“It’s better if you come with me” he said huskily, finally, blissfully moving his right hand down to her clit while his left continued to massage her breasts.

Emma moaned with relief as her orgasm finally crested taking Jones with her. He came with a shout, stilling his hips, coming deep inside her as she contracted around him. Emma wondered how many times today he had been serviced, pleasured, and still had come to her hard and unsatisfied.

Emma was still breathing hard a minute later when he pulled out of her at last.

“You lass, are a marvel” he commended rubbing his hand up and down her back in what was meant to be a reassuring way. Calming her, he was trying to calm her.

“Thank you, Captain” she said, still breathless.  

He moved off the bed again, and Emma assumed he had left the room. She was therefore surprised when she heard the jingle of keys as he returned to unlock her cuffs and remove her blind fold.

He was in the same soft robe as the night before, it was tied at his waist covering his lower half, but everything above that was on full display and Emma’s eyes drifted to the scar marring his otherwise perfect chest. Without thinking she brought her hand up and ran her finger down the length of it.

He shivered and Emma realised how intimate of an act that was. Instantly she grabbed her hand back and dropped her eyes.

“Forgive me Captain.”

“Everyone stares but most aren’t bold enough to touch” he commented “you will be here again tomorrow” he said, it wasn’t a question.

“Yes Captain.” Emma didn’t lift her eyes until she knew for sure that he was gone, a slow pleased smile spreading across her face, he wanted her again, this was a good sign, he was hooked.


	3. Topping from the Bottom

In other circumstances Killian Jones would have been a fantastic lover.

Emma was laid out on her back, her hands tied above her head and Jones thrusting into her at a punishing pace she could hardly keep up with. He angled downward and every thrust caused Emma to cry out as he hit her g-spot with his cockhead, over and over, but she wasn’t allowed to come. He had a cock ring securely wrapped around his base and as long as he wasn’t allowed to come, neither was she. _Fuck_.  

Emma didn’t know if she’d be able to walk tomorrow. Walking into the office was getting harder to do anyway. She frequently felt eyes on her, and every time she looked up Walsh or Jefferson was looking at her.

“Oh Captain” Emma cried out when she couldn’t help herself.

“You can take it. I know you can” he encouraged rocking into her yet again.

 _Of course_ I _can_ Emma thought, _but can you?_ It was difficult to thrust up to meet him at this angle and Emma wished he would untie her hands. She was only bound by the same black scarf that had covered her eyes the night before but it was tied tight. Jones had made her test it to ensure it wouldn’t come undone.

After a few more sharp thrusts he pulled out of her and Emma moaned at the loss of his cock filling her. She wants to grab for him, pull him back to her, and make him finish the job. She tugs on her binds yet again to no avail. She feels her wetness seep out of her abused pussy. In an instant he’s back, he only pulled out to remove the cock ring. This time he bends down low, pushes her leg up, with in seconds he’s back to the same punishing pace, a minute later he’s coming, finally.

He rubs lazy circles around Emma’s sensitive clit, she needs to come too. He’s still inside her when she reaches her own peak. It’s not the same as coming together, but they’re not lovers she reminds herself. She’s an FBI agent who wants to shut down any illegal activities going on here and he might be a criminal, criminal or not though this man will fuel her fantasies for years.

His dark hair is soaked with sweat, and he runs a hand through it making it stick up in odd places. He looks like he just had a thirty minute workout, and in a way he has. Emma grins despite herself, she can’t help it he is amazing in bed.

“We need to get you cleaned up” he says suddenly, “I’m having a special guest join us tonight” he explains.

A million things are running through Emma’s head as he leads her down the hall to a _fucking_ gorgeous bathroom. In floor heating, black porcelain tiles, a deep sunken tub that could easily fit six people, and a glass shower big enough for two.

Jones is already testing the water in the shower when he says, “maybe another time love” and Emma realizes she’s still ogling the tub.

They get in the shower together but that’s where the intimacy stops, he doesn’t touch her at all except for a few accidental brushes of skin when he hands her the soap or a wash cloth. Emma vigorously scrubs at her hair, if she cleans it well enough now she might not have to shower again in the morning.

Jones’ is required to spend a certain amount of time actually in the club and she wonderers who he walked the floor with earlier. Was it his old faithful, Red? Emma hadn’t even met anyone else who worked here yet. It was pushing one am when Emma returned to his room in naught but a towel. An honest to gosh slutty school girl uniform is laid out on the bed.

The _extra_ _mini_ miniskirt is red and black plaid that does not even come close to covering the whole of Emma’s bum. The top, she scoffs, if you can call it that is see-through white that is barely more than a strip of fabric to cover her nipples. Between the plunging neck line and cute little bow tied directly under her breasts her décolletage is on full display.

The door opens and when Jones enters she almost doesn’t recognize him. He is dressed in the most amounts of clothes she has yet to see him in. He’s in a navy blue three piece suit with silver pin stripes and a silver dress shirt on underneath, oddly enough he’s bare foot forgoing even socks. The top few buttons are undone but it’s nothing outrageous and the colouring does wonders making his bright blue eyes pop. He’s wearing a simple silver chain around his neck that he wasn’t before, it has what Emma thinks might be a crocodile tooth hanging off it.

He looks more like the man he was on his wedding day, Emma muses, than a man who kidnaps girls and forces them to perform in strip clubs.

Like the first night he makes his way to the bar to pour himself a drink but this time he takes down two glasses. Unlike the first night he stares openly at Emma as he crosses the room and actually runs into the bar before realizing he’s reached his destination. He’s lips are parted slightly like he’s about to say something. Comment on her scandalous appearance.

“I hope you’re ready to perform” he says in lieu of actually complementing her.

Emma can see the hard line of his cock already standing at attention and she knows he’s not wearing any underwear.

“Yes Captain” Emma says trying hard to keep her voice straight. They just spent half an hour fucking how could he possibly want her again so soon? Did she really look that good in the school girl outfit? Her hair was still wet when Jones makes his way over to her with the two glasses of rum.

“Drink this” he said offering her one of the cups of amber liquid while he placed the other on the night stand.

Emma took a sip of the rum as soon as he had left the room again and treasured the burn of it as it crawled its way down her throat. He returned an instant later with a hairbrush and some elastic bands.

“Allow me to do your hair” he said sitting behind her on the bed he began to brush out the curls that had started to accumulate there. After the knots were untangled he divided her hair and parted it into two braids. Emma imagined she looked just like Brittney Spears in that music video and suddenly longed for a mirror.

A buzzing noise sounded and Emma realized it was Jones’ cell phone.

“Jones” he said by way of answer.

“Aye, I’ve been waiting for him. Very good then.” he slipped the phone back into his pocket and headed for the door.

“Our gest should be here soon” he said turning back to look at her, “don’t start anything without me” he winked and with that he was gone.

When the door opened Emma casually leaned against the bed and put on her best smile then almost instantly let her jaw drop.

“Jefferson” she hissed, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“I am a paying client Swann, and you’ll show me that respect.” He said stepping into the middle of the room. Like Jones he openly stared at her but in a way that made Emma want to cover up. It was bad enough she had to put up with his leers at work.

“What was it you said when you volunteered for this? ‘It’s just sex’” he crudely spit her own words back at her.

“This has to be a violation” she said shaking her head, backing away from him, “you could just leave now, and we’ll never mention it again. I’ll make your excuses to Jones.”

“No, I don’t think so. Naughty school girl, it suits you.” he said inching his way closer to her, a feral look in his eyes.

Just as he reached out his hand to grab her, the door opened again and Jones entered.

“Ah James, so good to see you again” he said striding toward Jefferson, hand out-stretched, James Hart was the alias Jefferson was currently using.

“And you” agreed Jefferson in a voice Emma knew was fake.

“Darling, this is James, we met earlier downstairs, he was complaining that tonight’s entertainment was _boring_ so I suggested he come up here and get a sneak peak at your talents.” Jones had come over to her and possessively snaked his arm around her back, pulling her close to him.

“What did you have in mind, Captain?” Emma asked playing it up to annoy Jefferson, she rubbed her body against Jones’ sensually and he unconsciously rocked his hips into her thigh.

“Just a lap dance darling, nothing else, I’ll be watching of course.” He left Emma’s side and went to pull out the hard back wooden chair that sat behind the desk, dragging it to sit centre to the bed. “Take a seat, James” Jones said. On the surface it sounded polite but Emma noticed an edge to his voice that was usually absent.

As Jefferson sat in the chair Jones made his way back over to her. Pulling her close he whispered in her ear, “he’s an absolute prick; he’s insulted me and this club. Don’t be gentle.”

“Yes Captain” Emma whispered back darkly, she would enjoy roughing Jefferson up a bit.

Emma heard the creak in the bed behind her as Jones took his seat to watch the show. She moved with skill and precision thankful for the classes she had taken in preparation for this case. Approaching Jefferson head on, Emma watched as he drank in the sight of her, lust dilating his eyes.

She made first contact by rubbing her hand over his chest, down the open collar of his shirt, then raking her nails back up, and cutting them across his collar bone before walking behind him. Her nails left angry red marks where she had purposely scratched him and he hissed his displeasure. When she came around the other side of the chair she spun inwards so she was facing him again and let herself fall across his lap.

She wanted to smack the grin right off his face, and she would, but not yet. She grinded down on him a few times pleasantly enough, he was hard already; clearly he had spent a lot of time thinking about this, about her. He wasn’t near as big as Jones but Emma did her best with what she had to work with. The next time she grinded against him a little harder and he moaned in pleasure, she did it again, a little harder and he moaned in pain. He gave her a look as if to ask ‘ _what are you doing?_ ’ and when he moved his hand to cup her breast she made her move.

SMACK! The look of surprise in his eyes as her hand connects forcefully with his cheek. He let loose a murderous growl and Emma smacked him again this time with her other hand. She heard a moan from behind her and turned around to see Jones jacking off on the bed.

His suit jacket and vest neatly folded to the side, the shirt now wide open, and his pants around his hips thrusting his cock into his hand. Fuck he looked gorgeous.

“Come here love” he called to Emma and it was with great preference she raised herself up off of Jefferson’s lap and made her way to the bed.

“You’re such a naughty girl” he whispered hungrily into her ear. “You can leave now James” he called over Emma’s shoulder as she nestled against him.

Furious at the way he had been shafted Jefferson left in a huff re-buttoning his shirt as he went. Emma knew tomorrow at work would be hell but no matter what Jefferson threw at her, tonight had been worth it.

“Let’s not have this little number go to waste” Jones said reaching his hand up Emma’s skirt to rub her ass. “Watching you tease him turned me on incredibly. I need you to ride me while wearing it.”

Fuck his voice. Emma hadn’t gotten into the performance at all, it wasn’t until she had seen Jones stroking himself that she even grew aroused, but a few words in that sinful voice had her dripping.

Emma ran her hands over his chest, then back up and down his arms, removing his shirt completely while she straddled his lap. Once free his arms were instantly around her, he shifted until his pants were further down his legs then suddenly bam he was in her. Emma made a satisfying noise as he hit home in one long thrust.

“Do you like that, riding me bareback?” he asked as Emma bounced up and down on his cock.

“Yes Captain” she moaned as he hit her spot again.

Without warning he flipped them over, thrust into her a few more times then pulled out and came over her naked middle. It was childish, possessive, and territorial like a wolf marking its home, it turned her on. He then proceeded to go down on her and bring her to orgasm with his mouth, something Emma would be forever grateful for. She would never forget the sight of his dark hair between her legs, how he looked up at her every so often to make sure she was watching.

“ _Yes_ , oh yes, _Captain_ ” Emma breathed out as she climaxed, wishing she could call out his real name. _Killian_ she thought it was such a sexy name, so unique.

“Fuck” he hissed pleased, pulling away from her and she moaned again at the sight of her juices coating his chin, his lips. She had the sudden urge to kiss it off. “ _You are not allowed to kiss me, that is too intimate an act for what I run here_ ” his words came back to her and she watched with sorrow as he licked his own lips clean.

He was still looking down at her lustfully; his blue eyes nearly all black, and his lips quirked up in a lopsided grin. “Fuck” he repeated, as if he had just realized what he’d done, before grabbing his pants and doing them back up, he picked up his discarded shirts and marched to the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Emma was still laying on the bed trying to catch her breath, Jones’ come drying on her stomach when the door opened again and he popped his head back in.

“You will meet me here again tomorrow” he demanded.

“Yes Captain” Emma whispers to the empty room, long after the door had been closed again.

~~~~***~~~~

Work the next morning was about as much Hell as she had expected it to be. She was trying to carry on a conversation with Belle while Walsh and Jefferson conversed in conspiratorial tones in a far corner.

“You said Mia’s maiden name was Cassidy, why does she have a different last name than her father?” Emma asked Belle.

“She was from Mr. Gold’s wife’s previous relationship, it was her maiden name. They had one son together, Neal who also took his mother’s last name.” Belle explained.

“A brother, what did he think about all this? Jones, and his sister’s death? She asked.

“If Mia’s relationship with her step-father was bad, Neal’s was worse. The first time he ran away he was fifteen. He ran away again two weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday, I don’t think they even bothered looking for him. Their mother died eight years ago, which was around the time Mia left to run off with Jones. I doubt he even knew his sister had left home, or had a run-away marriage.” Belle answered.

Emma’s walking back to her desk and as she approaches Jefferson’s he drops his pen, on purpose.

“Do you mind picking that up for me, Swann?” he says in his fake polite voice and Emma glowers as she bends down to pick it up.

He’s watching her every move, leaning far to close over the edge of his desk for a glimpse down her shirt. When Emma stands up again she curls her hand into a fist and punches Jefferson square in the jaw knocking his head back. She grabs his hair in her other hand and launches his face forward into his desk, pleased when she hears a crack as his nose connects with the polished wood. She lays down the pen gently on his keyboard so it won’t roll away.

Ten minutes later she’s summoned to Regina’s office. Jefferson is there his head tilted back as he holds a bloodied Kleenex to his nostrils and an icepack lies across the bridge of his nose.

“Agent Swann, thank-you for joining us on shuck short notice” Regina says a smirk firmly in place. “Agent Hatt here says you attacked him, for no reason, completely unprovoked.”

There is no love lost between the two women, when Emma was fist assigned to her unit Regina tried everything to shake her loose. Then Emma saved her life and everything changed. Well not everything, but the two became civil towards each other. They would never be best friends but instead of trying to bring each other down, they worked to make each other be better.”

“No reason. Unprovoked” Emma repeated softly, “That’s funny” she said.

“Is it Miss Swann?” Regina says her voice humourless.

“Did he also tell you he almost blew our _whole_ operation last night? Did _Agent Hatt_ tell you he approached Jones on the floor of the club and told him he was _bored_ and that maybe there was better entertainment _upstairs_?” Emma says meaningfully and chances a glance at Jefferson, he’s gone very pale.

“Jefferson, is this true?” Regina asks turning her ire towards him.

Emma can tell he’s about to protest so she jumps the gun, “Show us your scars Jefferson” Emma taunts and it’s his breaking point.

“She slapped me, and clawed me” Jefferson admits, “it hurt” of course his words don’t come out that clear sounding his broken nose is impeding his speech and Emma tries hard not to laugh.

“Only because Jones’ ordered me too” she confesses and he makes a sound of disbelief.

“It’s true, his exact words were ‘don’t be gentle’” Emma pleads to Regina.

“She’s no longer safe; he’s got her wrapped around his finger. You didn’t see the way she crawled back to him, like a whipped bitch.” He spits. He tries annunciating each word in hopes they won’t sound so garbled but it only makes him sound funnier.

“It’s called acting Jones has to believe I’m faithful to him and Neverland. If he tells me to slap a client I’ll slap a client. You had no right to even ask that of him.” Emma is furious that Jefferson would think it was okay to pay another man in order to receive sexual service from her. Then again maybe that’s the only way he can get some.

“Agent Hatt” Regina begins, and for a moment Emma thinks she’s about to take his side, “you are on a two day suspension. You are not to set foot into this office, or the Neverland club for the next forty-eight hours, do I make myself clear.”

“Yes Chief Mills” Jefferson says resigned to his fate.

Emma is murdering her keyboard and trying to ignore Mary Margret’s questioning side glances when Regina approaches her desk twenty minutes later, a slip of paper in hand.

“I’ve booked you an afternoon appointment with Dr. Hopper” she explains, “When you’re finished you may go home for the remainder of the work day. I know right now it feels like you’re working two jobs so go home and rest up for the night.”

Emma opens her mouth in shocked silence but Regina must think she’s going to protest.

“It’s not up for debate Miss Swann” Regina says leaving the appointment card on Emma’s desk.

“Yes Chief” Emma mutters under her breath, than laughs out loud when she realises how much it sounds like ‘yes captain.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Just a quick note on the position of everyone in Emma's unit. For anyone familiar with Criminal Minds these positions should be familiar, Regina is Unit Chief the same as Hotchner, Belle is the Penelope she is a computer wiz and research expert, Mary Margret is JJ she's the Communications Liaison. Agent's Jefferson Hatt and David Nolan are SSA or Supervisory Special Agents, and Emma and Walsh Osmond are Special Agents.


	4. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Killian POV chapter. This is Killian's POV for the first three chapters and part of the next. For anyone who read Keep to the Code there is a little repeat but not much. Killian's chapters will focus on his thoughts (feelings) and what goes on at the club when Emma isn't present rather than a rehashing of the sex scenes.

Killian Jones doesn’t know how he ever believed someone as devilishly wanton as Swan could be _innocent_.

He’s just left her alone in his room at the club for the third night in a row and his legs are still shaking as he tries to walk away. The wall next to the door is as good as place as any to rest and he belatedly realises he didn’t give her instructions for tomorrow.

He opens the door and without looking back in at her, he knows she’s still in that same position, blissed and sprawled across the bed, his ejaculate drying on her stomach (really what had he been thinking) and shouts “You will meet me here again tomorrow.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply he knows she’ll be there.

It’s when he’s at home, in his own bed that he allows himself to think of her again and where his judgments led him astray. Killian lives in a small one bedroom apartment, it’s all he needs. The living room is full of happy smiling pictures of him and Mia. The bedroom is not. He sleeps in a single bed at home, he never has anyone over, a larger bed would just remind him of what he lost, that he has no one to share it with and never will.

He wonders again, not for the first time this week where he went wrong with Red, their interactions from two nights ago come back to him. Everything was normal and fine, Ruby was sucking his cock for dear-life when _she_ walked in the room. Long blonde hair falling gracefully over her shoulders bright green eyes, so eager to please shine up at him through her lashes and all he can think is, _innocent_. She’s trying to avoid looking at him, standing there half naked as he is and he calls her out on it.

“See something you like?” Killian asks her.

His cock twitches at the look she gives him in reply and Ruby tries in vein to bring his attention back to her. She needs to be punished for her insubordination.

When they’re alone he grabs her arm and gives her a warning, one warning is all she gets.

“Jealousy is very unbecoming love” he hissed at her, and when she tried to protest he tightened his grip. “Watch it Red, you’re turning green. You know you are currently my favourite but you _are_ replaceable. Now then, there is a Mr. De Wolfe waiting for your services in room seven, please, show him a good time.” He lets her arm drop, and he makes to brush past her and leave.

He’s already thinking about how he wants to be clean for the new girl. When she sucks his cock, and she will suck his cock, he doesn’t want her to taste Ruby’s peppermint breath.

Then Red hits him with those three little words, “ _as you wish.”_ It’s the second time she let it slip tonight, once he can overlook but twice she’s just asking for it. He pushes her up against the wall and grabs her chin in his hand, holding her head still so she can see the fury in his eyes as he berates her.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re implying.” He’s not an idiot, despite what she thinks, “You are no _Buttercup_ ” he spits shaking his head in disappointment at her, “and I sure as Hell am no Westley” he bites out the words almost sinking his teeth into her neck. “Room seven is waiting for you” he turned around looking away from her, damn woman. He’s still hard and gets himself off in the shower, he really wants to make this new girl work for him.

She’s draped in white feathers and he doesn’t even know her name but Good Lord he could do wicked things to her. _Innocent_ , the word taunts him, Swan he calls her when she gets cheeky. All the girls have stage names anyway.

Killian shifts in his bed suddenly restless thinking about that feather outfit was not a good idea.

He remembers the way she worked his cock with her mouth, simply divine, how he had to fist the sheets to keep from grabbing hold of her hair, and forced himself not to thrust into her mouth.

He’s coming again before he knows it, thinking of her, calling out for someone who isn’t there.

“ _Swan_ ” he moans.

There is a reason he reminds himself, that Red is the only brunet in the club. He was afraid that if the club was full of brunets he’d see Mia everywhere and he didn’t need that guilt, didn’t want that reminder. Ironically that was why he had pulled Ruby off the streets in the first place. Her hair had been loose like Mia always kept hers and as he drove by in the car he swore it was Mia he saw. He had never meant to favour her the way he did, she was just good at her job. But she was spirited, too much so and Killian had to show her swift and harsh justice for the unreasonable way she had acted.

The following night, last night, Killian dished out Red’s punishment in full force. He doesn’t ask Matron Lucas to send her to his room, instead he asks for Tinker, her real name is Hellen Green. All the girls have a special custom made outfit they have to wear when they walk the floor with him. Tinker’s is a bright green sequin pixy dress. It’s short and the jagged edges hang just above mid-thigh. The back is open in a wide, deep V that shows off her fairy wings tattoo. He’s wearing a three piece suit of dark, forest green with a lighter green dress shirt, something closer to the colour of her dress.

They are watching some of the other girls perform, and he draws Tinker into his lap, he’s hard and she subtly grinds against him in a pleasing way. She’s beautiful and blonde but she isn’t Swan, he’s only had her once and he can’t wait to have her again. He grows harder at the thought of what’s waiting for him and allows Tinker to think it’s for her. He left the Matron with some very specific instructions.

Ruby is naked, bound to a chair and gagged, they’re in room number seven, Red’s room, the Forest Room. He’s making her watch as he roughly fucks Tinker on the bed. They’re sitting so they face her, Tinker is riding his cock hard and his hands are everywhere. This is Ruby’s punishment, she isn’t special, she shouldn’t get jealous, Tinker’s “yes Captain’s” are exactly what he needed to hear, someone who will do what he wants when he asks. His thrusting becomes erratic and he swirls his finger around Tinker’s swollen clit making her come in time with him. Her walls tighten around him, but it’s not enough, it’s not the same as Swan.

When their finished he swivels her around and roughly kisses her biting at her lip, Red protests from the chair, she tries to stomp her feet in frustration and attempts to yell around the ball gag. If she wants to be jealous he will give her something to be jealous about. Killian throws Tinker off him and on to the bed. He needs to go shower. He needs to be clean for his Swan.

He enters the room without making a noise and stares openly at the sight before him. Ms. Lucas has out done herself. Swan is tied to his bed, a silky black scarf covers her eyes and her naked arse is stuck up in the air just begging for him to slap it. Her breasts hang low, uncovered and he wants to grab at them. He shows mild restraint, instead of walking to the bed he walks to the uncomfortable chair that sits behind the desk.

He watches as she helplessly tries to rut against the little bullet between her thighs knowing it’s not enough. He sits there naked stroking himself slowly, really enjoying the way she squirms on the bed, at this rate neither of them will get off. Steeling his resolve he swiftly makes his way to the bed and slips up behind her.

She stills instantly under his touch, her muscles tense up and he knows she’s been damaged. Most girls who come to him are. “Try something new _darling_ , it’s called trust” he whispers to her.

She moans beautifully when his cock lightly brushes her bared arse so he does it again. His fingers sink into her tight, wet, heat and he can’t help it when he exclaims out loud, “Gods Swan, you’re fucking dripping, a man could drown in your ocean love.”

He asks her if she deserves to be punished today, of course she does. He spanks her arse until his hand hurts and his rings have cut into her tender flesh. It’s so red and he wants to kiss the whole thing better but that’s a dangerous game. Instead his eyes drift down to the inside of her thigh where a trail of her delicate juices slides just for him. He can’t help it when his tongue flicks out of its own accord and he licks straight up to the source. He can’t get enough, just as he predicted he’s drowning in her ocean, it’s greedy and he doesn’t care. She rocks into his mouth and he realizes what it is he’s doing.

He is turned on beyond belief he can still taste her but his cock is aching with the need to thrust and stake claim. “I won’t be gentle” is his only warning before plunging his length deep inside her dripping cunt. Taking her like this, from behind, is primal and animalistic and he loves it. The noises she’s making are worth it. He’s not one to take too much without giving _something_ in return and because he’ll die if they don’t come at the same time he pushes her over the edge, working her clit hard.

It doesn’t matter he fucked Tinker twice, and pleasured himself in the shower early this morning, seeing her on the bed helpless and just waiting for him had turned him on incredibly. Fucking her was an absolute pleasure. She’s shaking when he finally pulls out and idly rubs his hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture. When he thinks she’s calmed enough, sometimes the bondage can be too much, he moves to retrieve the keys from his desk.

Swan makes an aborted sound like she’s afraid he’s leaving her but he’s back in an instant, unlocking her wrists and removing the scarf. It’s his scarf, and he’ll never be able to wear it and not think about how it covered her green eyes. He tries to avoid using personal items of his but the blind folds the club keeps on hand are boring and generic.

She’s looking at him oddly, he wants to call it piety, but it’s not that either. She looking at him like she knows his whole tragic past, and everything he’s lost. She runs her hand along his scar, the scar he got the night he lost Mia, and it’s too personal. A shiver wracks his body, like someone has walked over his grave and he stares at her intensely, not sure if he should reprimand her or be impressed. He settles for something in between when she quickly apologizes with a “forgive me Captain.”

Even now Killian remembers how it felt when her fingers lightly brushed the damaged tissue and he wants to know that feeling again.

Tonight was a whole other kettle of fish. Tinker is sitting on his lap again when a man he’s never met before approaches them. The man looks familiar he’s certainly a regular in the club.

Tinker whispers in his ear, “James Hart, member since August.”

“Good evening, James, how can I help you tonight?” he asks politely. There is something about the man that is off and Killian instantly dislikes him. He proceeds to complain, much to Killian’s displeasure that he’s tired of the same old faces, and was hoping for something new. It’s almost like he knows Killian is keeping a new girl all to himself.

Killian offers Tinker to him for a discounted price, which he will make up for, but the man continues to look down cast. What is it with people giving him a hard time this week? The man mutters something about, “I’m sure you can do better than that” and Killian knows this man needs to be taught a lesson, tonight.

He fucks Swan roughly taking out his anger for the strange man on her. He’s proving a point to himself by showing restraint. But she’s so tight, and wet, and warm.

“Oh Captain” she cries out unexpectedly and he suddenly, irrationally wishes it was his name she was shouting.

He’s greedy taking his pleasure before finishing her off. He can’t let her get too comfortable. He’s thought up the perfect punishment for this James guy and he can’t wait it put it in motion.

He leaves her in the bathroom to finish drying off and goes to layout the perfect outfit for her, before going and changing himself. She has yet to see him in one of the suits he wears around the club and decides to look presentable for their guest. It’s not the first time he’s shared a girl with a patron but this isn’t like the other times. He is going to present Swan to him in a way that makes him think she is something attainable then pull her out from under him, literally if necessary.

He can’t stop staring when he sees her. There is no self-restraint, like the first night. Killian needs a glass of rum for what he’s about to do and walks stiffly to the bar, his erection impeding him every step of the way. He’s still looking at her, watching him, when he walks straight into the very solid form of the bar. _Innocent,_ she looks innocent, and that word will haunt him forever, because he knows she’s not. The way she withered under him earlier comes back to him and he wants her again.

He does her hair to complete the look and prepares himself mentally for seeing her tease someone else. It’s a good way to test her lap dancing skills. He plans it so he is out of the room when James arrives and walks in to see him reaching for the girl. Swan looks at him as if he isn’t even worthy to be a piece of chewed gum stuck to her shoe and Killian would agree, but she doesn’t know him, how can she so instantly dislike him. The man isn’t awful to look at and he certainly acts cordial, even if it’s only skin deep.

He’s talking to James but he’s walked over to Swan, wrapping his arm around her, letting her know he’s here and won’t let this man really hurt her. Both of them are talking in fake polite voices and Killian has the feeling this is somehow out of his control.

After ordering James to sit Killian pulls Swan aside and gives her some instructions, “don’t be gentle.” He wants to see her play rough with someone else.

She has been so submissive for him, so pliant, that when she strikes James he wonders how he missed her dominate side. She hits him again and he fucking moans because he likes it. Watching her saunter around their prey was even more of a turn on then he had originally thought it might be, he palms himself roughly before it becomes too much and strips off his coat and vest. He pulls his cock out, not wasting time by removing his whole trousers and pumps his cock roughly. The slap echoes through the tiny room and he beacons her to come to him.

He watches as James eyes, once lustful turn dark with loathing and Killian doesn’t hesitate in dismissing him. He wants no witnesses for how he’s about to fuck Swan. Breaking one of his rules he pushes into her bare. He won’t come in her but he needs to feel her around his naked cock, wants her to feel it too. He flips them over and fucks her into the bed, at the last second he pulls out and sprays his seed over her naked flesh. He’s not even thinking when he gets down on his knees and begins to suck at her dripping pussy. She is so wet, always so wet for him. He wants to drain her dry leave nothing for anyone else.

He made the mistake of looking up at her, the way she had looked up at him that first night. She’s watching him devour her pussy like she wants to burn the image onto her retinas. Her moaning and shouts of _“oh yes Captain”_ as she comes are enough to make him want to take her again. He stands back up and looking down at her a wave of something akin to possession flies through him. She’s utterly spent, still wearing the practically non-existent outfit, and he’d fuck her again but that’s when it hits him.

Of all the bad things he’s done in his life, acquiring girls for Pan being one of the worst. After everything he’s already lost, Liam and Mia. She’s his punishment. The blonde in the school girl uniform, coated in spunk will be the death of him, because he wants her again, and again, and again. Tomorrow night and the night after, and the night after that.

It is three-thirty am and Killian can’t get to sleep. It doesn’t matter he had his way with the mysterious Swan, twice, he’s just fucked himself with his hand thinking about her, again. He makes his way to the bathroom and washes himself up. When he makes it back to bed it still feels like something is missing, he tosses and turns, unable to get comfortable.

For the first time in years Killian’s bed doesn’t seem big enough.

~~~~***~~~~

Killian knows exactly what he wants tonight. He’s dressed in a black suit that has dark pink pin striping, a lighter pink shirt on underneath. Ariel and Dawn are his escorts tonight; both red-heads look amazing in pink. Ariel’s Burlesque dress is dark pink and black it’s low in the front and bustles in the back. Dawn is wearing something similar in a lighter pink. The three of them receive knowing glances wherever they walk, and Killian knows the three of them look hot together. The girls don’t push him for an answer when he says he has to leave them early. There is already a rumour going around a new girl is starting soon.

Killian makes himself comfortable on the bed and focuses his eyes on the door. Everything is all set up for his Swan. It’s time to see just how graceful she actually is.

The surprise on her face as she stalls when entering the room is enough for his cock to give a twitch of interest, he wants to fuck her, but not yet. She eyes the silver pole in the middle of the room wearily and he thinks she might protest, actually push back against his authority. After last night he knows she has the will.

He turns on the boom-box, sitting on his desk, by remote and commands her “entertain me.”

She looks straight at him gaze unwavering and he sees her begin to move her body to find the rhythm of the song. She smiles at him deviously before expelling a rushed “yes Captain” as she walks towards the pole, popping her hips.

He doesn’t even try to stop the moan from leaving his lips. If she is his punishment, he will take it.


	5. For Your Entertainment

Emma is standing naked in front of her full-length mirror inspecting the bruises on her hips. The bruises caused by _his_ fingers.

She remembers another rough hand, other bruises caused by fingers. Sessions with Dr. Hopper always do this to her. They always make her remember.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” Dr. Hopper asks her. “Is the case you are working on putting stress on you?”

“I’m fine, really” Emma lies. She’s just smashed a co-worker’s face into his desk, breaking his nose. She is very _not_ fine.

“Regina says if you want to file a sexual harassment complaint against Jefferson she’ll vouch for you.” Dr. Hopper offers.

“I don’t” Emma says shaking her head. She hates the man sure but she doesn’t want to ruin his career. The man has a young daughter at home. Which makes her think how can such a loathsome man as Jefferson care about his daughter but longs to deny other women their rights? Since the divorce Emma hasn’t really heard him talk about Gracie, maybe she spends most of her time at her mother’s.

“Emma, you’re not talking to me, what’s up?” he asks, and Emma realizes she must have missed a question somewhere.

“Sorry Arch it’s just I’m up all night for the case then I have to come in again in the morning. I’m not getting much sleep.” She confesses.

“Yes I see here Regina says to send you home after our session.” He agrees.

“Yeah, can we wrap this up?” she asks, dreading the next two questions and their answers.

Every six months for the last six years Emma has had to attend mandatory therapy sessions with Dr. Archibald Jiminy Hopper. He is the psychiatrist for the whole third floor, he has 36 agents plus two senior members of staff on his roster.

By the end of her first session he and Emma were on a first name basis. By the end of the second she knew what the ‘J’ stood for on his desk name plate. Emma knew what schools he attended, the name of his high-school crush, and that he had tea every Tuesday with his friend and mentor Dr. Marco Booth.

Emma responded in kind, talking about everything except why she was there, talking about everything except the ‘incident.’

Like clockwork every session had ended with the same two questions, and every session Emma had given the same two answers. She gives him a pleading look, willing him to believe the answers haven’t changed, but one of them has.

“When was the last time you were involved in a romantic relationship?” he asks.

“Six years.” She answers with a watery smile, the tears already pricking at the corners of her eyes. She knows she is supposed to talk about _it_ but she can’t bring herself to rehash old memories. The guy who left her was a real jerk, especially when she did nothing wrong. _It wasn’t her fault._

“When was the last time you were intimate with someone?” he asks, pen already poised to repeat a duplicate answer.

“Last night.” She tries to make it sound off hand, likes it’s no big deal. Her voice comes out small and Dr. Hopper chokes on his tea.

“What?” he asks, and Emma can tell he’s not sure he’s heard correctly.

“It’s for the case” Emma says pointing towards her file, “I’m undercover, you would have had to clear me.”

“Clear you? Undercover where?” he really doesn’t know Emma decides, and she has half a mind to stomp back upstairs and tell Regina off for somehow slipping her through the cracks. Archie never would have cleared her for this case. Why hadn’t she thought about this before?

“I volunteered to go undercover to a strip club” she says without hesitation. “Part of the ruse requires me to perform sexual favours to the patrons.” She explains. She doesn’t go into detail Archie doesn’t need to know she’s practically sleeping with the boss.

“Regina didn’t put that in her paperwork.” He says exasperated, pushing his glasses back up his nose from where they’d fallen earlier.

“It’s not a big deal Arch, I’m fine with it really.” She says trying to convince herself as much as she is him. When she said “ _it’s just sex_ ” she meant it. It’s not a big deal that she gets to be at the beck and call of the most beautiful man she has ever seen. She doesn’t think about the idiot who _tried_ to rape her, she doesn’t think about the asshole that left her because of it. She’s not afraid of the one-eyed monster and she doesn’t even mind if Jones is a little rough. She lets him believe she hasn’t given him permission when really she has a signed contract with work saying she agrees to all sexual advances made by him and they can’t later use this as evidence against him because she consented.

“How much longer are you expected to be undercover?” Archie asks.

“Ten more days” Emma tells him, this is all supposed to be over Halloween night.

“Why don’t we pencil you in for another appointment then?” he says with a half-hearted smile, “and maybe put in for some vacation time.”

“I’ll think about it.” Emma’s never really seen the need to take vacation, but she agrees with Dr. Hopper, after this case she might.

Emma inhales and exhales shakily. She had a good cry in the shower talking about Henry Baelfire is always hard. They’d had a good relationship, one of her best and he had walked out on her just because some jerk had almost raped her. It was low. Killian Jones was a fucking gentleman compared to him.

~~~~***~~~~

Emma walks into Jones’ room ready for the twenty minute to half an hour wait she is used to and stops. He’s already there, laid out on the bed. He looks like John Travolta in the dance scene from _Grease_. His hair is slicked back, and she doesn’t like it, she wants to run her hands through it and mess it all up. He looks good in pink though, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to rip the shirt off and brush her lips along the scar she knows is hiding there. She notices the pole in the middle of the room and guesses what’s coming next. She’s defiantly putting in for that vacation, go down south somewhere she can just lie on a beach and get drunk.

Suddenly she feels inadequate. Matron Lucas usually comes and prepares her before Jones shows up. Emma is in yoga pants and a faded old t-shirt that reads ‘Original Six’ followed underneath by the logos for the original six NHL teams. Underneath the relaxed exterior Emma has on a purple lacy thong and the world’s most boring black full breast-covering bra. She doesn’t feel sexy at all but he’s looking at her like he wants to rut her into the floor. Her clean hair is pulled into a high pony tail.

“Entertain me” he commands as he turns on a CD player and Def Leppard’s ‘ _Pour some sugar on me_ ’ comes pounding out. Emma finds the beat and moves her body to it the way the pole dancing instructor taught her. She mentally prepares herself inhaling and exhaling, _ten more days_ she thinks, _ten more days_.

“Yes Captain” she purrs as she makes her way to the pole in the center of the room, twisting her body methodically around it.  

He changes the song several times and each time Emma is able to adapt her movements to better fit the song. The slow seduction of ‘ _American Woman_ ’, the sensually compelling display she gives of Abba’s ‘ _lay all your love on me’_ and an all-out ‘fuck me’ performance as she rocks her hips to the beat of Buck Cherry’s ‘ _Crazy Bitch_ ’ Emma knows she’s nailed each one.

Her forehead is covered in sweat and at some point Emma pulled the elastic out of her hair to better swing it around. Jones only played part of each song until he was satisfied with the way she was moving then switched it, until the last one. Emma worked overtime on _Crazy Bitch_ really getting into the performance; she didn’t notice he continued to let it play. She had been hanging from the pole upside-down when she looked over and saw him now completely naked jacking-off enthusiastically, the stereo remote beside him a distant memory. For all his talk of being in charge and liking it rough Emma wonders if he wouldn’t mind being the one tied up and whipped for a change.

He times his finish to coincide with that of the song. Their combined heavy panting now the only sounds filling the room.

“Well done Swan, I think you’re ready for the floor” he calls over from the bed.

Emma just nods because her lungs still can’t get enough air. She feels hollow because grinding against the pole for him has turned her on so much but the friction is not even close to being enough. Her thong is soaked she knows it, but she’s still dressed and sweating and _fuck_ she just wants to get off. Jones is doing up his pants and walks over to her still topless but carrying his shirt over his arm.

“Be here early tomorrow, closer to nine, I want you to walk the floor with me.” It’s an order and the commanding voice he uses gives her chills.

He wants her to walk the floor with him, _yes,_ this is what they’ve been waiting for. She’s so wrapped up doing internal summersaults she barely notices when he leaves the room. Only after the door clicks behind him does she realize that was a dismissal. After the day she’s had _not_ fucking her is the worst thing he could have done.

The vibrator between Emma’s legs (Lelo Mona in red) is very nice but doesn’t come close to filling her the way Jones does. Lying on top of her bed she’s switching between fast and slow, teasing herself and thinking about him and it’s still not enough. Coming is blissful release and if the strangled moan that escapes her throat sounds a little bit like ‘ _Killian_ ’ there is no one else in the room to sanction it.

~~~~***~~~~

The outfit waiting for Emma is more than she could ever imagine. The corset top is black velvet with a silver swirl design, and the skirt is black feathers. In the front the feathers barely make it to mid-thigh in the back they just tickle the top of the bend in her knees. Emma’s hair had been painstakingly curled and she was wearing more make-up tonight than she had worn in the last month. Thick silver eye-shadow sits heavy on her lids and the false lashes she’s wearing hinder her vision. Emma’s calves are encased in good quality Italian leather balanced on four-inch high pin-prick heels. She has just enough time to be grateful she mastered the art of walking in high-heels ages ago.

She hears the door click closed behind her as Jones enters the room, taking a deep breath she turns around to face him, and works hard to maintain her composure. He’s back to a basic black suit, and silver dress shirt, but his vest is an exact match to her corset. His hair is artfully ruffled, lightly gelled on the top, and the better part of his chest is on display. The crocodile tooth chain is around his neck and Emma’s eyes linger on it. It rises and falls with his breathing which has increased as he takes in her appearance in return.

“Swan” he says, and it comes out as a half-chocked noise that makes Emma think of nervous first dates. A gentleman might finish that sentence with “ _you look stunning_ ” someone less so might say “ _let’s skip dinner_.”

Emma chances a glance at his eyes and notices the blue is almost swallowed by black.

He never finishes his thought out loud and the silence grows between them. Emma takes pride in the fact she managed to make The Captain speechless. Emma is just beginning to think they could stand there all night just staring at each other when someone knocks softly on the door.

“Shall we?” he says to her holding out his arm for her to take. He adopts an easy carefree smile and lilt to his voice she hasn’t heard before.

He leads her all the way down to the other end of the hall and down the set of steps she knew was there but had never seen.

Emma walks out onto the floor of the club for the first time, arm-in-arm with Killian Jones and they make quite the pair. The club is mostly empty, two waitress putter around and Emma recognizes them as Lynn and Darling. Jones steers her to the right and they duck in a door that leads behind the main stage. Here the other girls are waiting.

Emma locks eyes with Red as the other woman tries to stare her down. No doubt the bitch has already told everyone all about her. It’s not logical the nervous looks she receiving from Red, sure she’s Jones’ favourite but he must bring in new girls all the time, unless there is something more going on between them? Emma files that away to think about later if Jones is her weak point Emma might be able to use that as a pressure point on Red.

“Ladies” Jones announces, “I’m glad to see you all ready to perform tonight.”

Emma takes in some of the very elaborate show pieces some of the girls are wearing, and is thoroughly impressed. Some of the girls, including Red and two others are wearing wild-west saloon girl outfits that would be difficult to strip out of Emma assumes they will perform an opening-act dance routine before changing into something more strippable.

“I’d like you all to meet the newest member of our crew” he says swinging his arm in her direction and letting his voice trail off, it’s time for her to step up.

“Anne” Emma says with a smile.

“Anne” Jones repeats her false name like it’s the key to some great unsolved mystery, “this is everyone” he continues by way of introduction. “When performing she will the Black Swan, I haven’t decided if I want her to dance tonight yet, or not.”

Emma thinks he’s talking now just to hear the sound of his own voice, because the girls really don’t look like they give a crap. Emma is a potential threat until proved otherwise. If she’s too good anyone of them might be out of a job.

Matron Lucas enters from the door behind them holding a clip board and begins rattling off names and designations.  

“Red, Tinker, and Dawn you open on the main stage, group dance then reconvene back here for individual strip shows. Tamara, you’re booked in room A for a bachelor party, and after that you have a client booked. Ella, you’re first on after the group dance, then you’re doubled booked. There is another stag party at twelve, Ariel you can do that one.” The Matron is efficient doling out tasks, pen flying across her clip board and ticking things off her list. Each girl she calls on answers with a nod of consent.

Emma is impressed with how things are run here and she wonders again at what they could be fronting.

Jones’ seems satisfied and bids them all farewell, taking Emma by the arm and leading her back out the door. There are considerably more patrons filling the space now, most of them hogging the prime seats right at the edge of the main stage. There are two smaller stages in opposite corners and twenty or so lush green leather couches fill the spaces in between. Small round end tables also dot the landscape and Jones maneuvers through them with ease.

He navigates their way almost to the back of the club, next to the smaller stage tucked away in the back corner. Another man is already seated there and it seems as though he was waiting for Jones. Emma tries not to tense when he lifts his head and she recognizes him from the mug-shot the FBI has on file.

Felix Nightshade has angel soft blond hair and cold grey eyes that sparkle with madness. He could have been handsome but for the scar that cuts down his forehead, across the bridge of his nose, and under his right eye. Some people might mistake the way he is currently looking at her for lust but Emma knows better, the leer is full of malicious intent, and unlike Jones he’s not exactly a ladies man. Nightshade spent four years in jail for his interest in boys.

Jones sits beside him without hesitation and pulls Emma into his lap. It’s a place of honour and he makes her feel like a queen, sitting on a throne.

“Who’s your new friend?” Nightshade asks and his voice makes Emma want to shiver, and not in a good way. His voice is deep and wild like his eyes.

Jones reply is so low Emma can’t hear it, but Nightshade takes her hand and brushes his lips across the back of it. She resists the urge to run to the washroom to burn it under hot water to kill whatever germs might now be there and turns her eyes to the main stage to enjoy the show.

Red takes center stage, and a country beat bounces out through the speakers, her back up girls take their places around the other poles and the three of them move in sync. Emma recognises it as Carrie Underwood’s _Cowboy Casanova_ and as she listens to the lyrics she can’t help but think Red is directing this at her as a warning. Her theory is confirmed when they lock eyes several times when Red should really be looking at the paying clients and not a rival dancer.

The second time the line “ _a snake with blue eyes, and he only comes out at night_ ” plays Emma hears Jones make a snarling noise and it seems even he has cottoned on to what Red is laying down. She’s not a subtle as she’d like to be, or maybe she no longer cares. Jones’ grip on Emma’s waist tightens and she feels that twinge of pride again, that he’s choosing her. Which is strange, it’s not a competition. Emma has to remind herself she’s only there to gather information to shut down the club.

While the girls on stage don’t actually take anything off, they don’t keep covered either. When they bend over, they give a full display of cleavage, and when they kick their legs high, or twirl around the poles the show what they have on underneath the short skirts, nothing. Even from way back here Emma can see the glint of metal Red has between her legs and it makes her cringe in sympathy. She had once considered getting her nipples pierced but her clit was totally off limits.

When the group finish Emma hears Nightshade say something to Jones about the choice of song, Red is so not subtle and while she may be in love with Jones Emma knows now it isn’t reciprocated. Again that makes her feel something close to ‘happy’ and she’s not sure why.

Jones whispers in her ear, “entertain me.”

Emma smiles slow and seductive, before replying with her standard “yes Captain.”

Emma gets up on the little corner stage with only Jones and Nightshade as her witnesses. A man rushes over to Jones and takes his request before ducking into a DJ booth and selecting a tune. The music comes out louder than Emma expected and it’s not a song she recognizes but that doesn’t stop her from moving to the beat and seducing Jones with the sensuous curves of her body. He denied her last night, she’ll be damned if he won’t fuck her tonight.

They barely make it to the room. He carried her up the stairs with her legs wrapped around his waist as he sucked bruises down the pale column of her neck, rutting his clothed cock over her bare and sensitive flesh. He stumbles as he makes way into the room and Emma wonders how they didn’t end up on the floor, instead he pushes aside the few contents of the desk and fucks her into the finely polished wood. He opens the corset from the clasps in the front rather than the ties in the back and devotes himself to worshiping at the altar of her breasts. He only leaves her side for a moment to sheath himself in a condom and then he’s back to pleasuring her. It’s like they’re a couple who haven’t seen each other in months and need to fuck just to get it out of their systems. There are two problems with her line of thinking, one is they haven’t gone months without each other, it was only one night, and two they are not a couple.

Coming hard with Killian Jones buried deep inside her is Emma’s new guilty pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last song Emma dances to is called Gorgeous Nightmare by Escape the Fate, if you don't know it it's worth a listen even if it's not your type of music. The music video for it is an homage to the seven deadly sins and it's beautiful.


	6. The Devil you Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been a long time coming, I didn't forget, in fact I've had most of this written for months. Unfortunately real life got in the way big time. I worked a lot over Christmas and when I had "free time" I wasn't in the mood to write. It seems I have been bitten my the muse again and I am pleased to say I hope to soon be giving more regular updates. Thank you to everyone for your continuous encouragement, it really means a lot to me. This little one shot has come a long way.

Sunday night had gone much the same as the night before, and tonight is falling into a similar pattern. Someone must have talked to Ruby because the opening song was changed to _Lady Marmalade_ and five girls did a runway strip show to it.

Work had been busy today, because Jefferson’s suspension had fallen over a weekend he had still been banned from the office and club today, but that meant everyone else had to work twice as hard. Jefferson was supposed to be her back-up inside the club if something went wrong, with him out of commission SSA David Nolan was camped outside the club in an inconspicuous cable van, with Mary Margret to keep him company. With David recently divorced Emma had begun to notice the heated looks shared between the two co-workers. If they were serious about starting a relationship one of them would have to move to another unit. Her unit was like her family and Emma didn’t know if she would be able to stick around if it broke up.

John and Michael Darling had finally shown up today and were overjoyed with Emma’s good news that she had seen their sister. The running theory being their father may have had a bad business dealing with Pan. Mr. Darling being the head of a shipping company that makes many passes across the Atlantic Ocean between England and America, could have shipped illegal substances to Pan. About four years ago the company had been in financial trouble but was miraculously saved by the donation of a large sum of money from an anonymous donor.

If the anonymous donor was Pan, which they have no way of proving without confirmation from Mr. Darling, and when the time came for him to pay Pan back and couldn’t his daughter was taken as collateral. Besides being held against their will Alice and Wendy appeared to be well taken care of, they flirt openly with patrons, and take their turns on stage as required. Everyone is still looking for a link between Dr. Edwin Lynn, Alice’s father and Mr. Pan but Emma’s convinced if they look hard enough they will find it.

Emma’s back is still sore from two consecutive nights of rough sex on a wooden desk, but she smiles out at the crowd from her place on the main stage. She twirls around the front pole, shaking her hips in time to the “ _voulez vous coucher avec moi_ ” pumping out the speakers and locks eyes with Jones’ who is sitting squarely at the bar, having abandoned his post in the back corner. He is drinking, she notices, not just a few fingers of rum, he has in hand a tall glass filled with dark liquid, and he is drinking to get drunk.

Emma moves to the side and Ariel takes her place in the front, also on stage are Ella, Dawn, and Mulan. Emma finds Red in the crowd, not difficult as she sticks out in her French Maid’s dress, she had the pleasure of being a waitress tonight, she too is watching Jones, a look of concern on her usually smug face.

The song finishes and the lights go out descending the whole place into darkness for a moment. The stage is littered with bills and the girls all drop down to pick them up. Emma’s first outfit tonight is a tight fitting black body suit, black fishnet stockings, a top hat, and a tail coat, the only pop of colour her silver glittery platform shoes. She can’t wait to change. In the individual shows she’s performing third tonight and so has about ten minutes to rest. She thinks about going out to check on Jones, but that might be taking it too far. If he’s still sitting there when she finishes her set she’ll go see him.

Emma strips to AC/DC’s _You Shook Me All Night Long_ , and she kind of likes how freeing it feels. She’s quite the sensation and the patrons demand to see more of her. Maybe Jefferson was onto something when he said the club needed some fresh faces.

She finds Jones sprawled across one of the more secluded green leather couches. He’s alone, his forearm shading his eyes from the dim light of the club and Emma knows it’s time for him to call it a night. She debates for a minute on whether or not she should leave him there or attempt to move him. She is already turned around, poised to just walk away when he calls out. It’s loud in the club and she almost doesn’t hear him over the thumping of the music but it is one word and it’s enough to make her still.

“Mia” he’s calling out for his dead wife and Emma’s heart wants to break to pieces. She turns back to him and kneels down by his head.

“Captain” she whispers in his ear, waiting for a reaction, “Captain” she repeats a little louder when he gives no response.

This time he snorts and turns his head, rubbing blindly at his eyes.

“Mia?” he repeats blinking up at her, but this time it’s a question, like he knows something is wrong.

Emma shakes her head delicately no, “It’s me, Swan” she says carefully.

His eyes open a little bigger at that, like a kid at Christmas who has just opened the one present he asked for.

“Swan” he says, attempting to sit up and Emma gives him a gentle helping push.

“I think you should say good night, Captain” Emma coaxes.

“Good night Captain” Jones dutifully repeats.

The man is absolutely loaded, three sheets to the wind and getting worse. Emma wants to ask him how much he drank, why he drank, but it’s really not her concern. Emma tries not to breathe as he exhales and the scent of Captain Morgan’s spiced rum fills the air, she thinks it’s enough to intoxicate her.

“We should get you upstairs” she says, already contemplating the impossibility of this feat.

“Would you like to see my room?” he says, suddenly flirty. “I have a bit of reputation, you know?”

“Really” Emma says, playing along letting him think he’s winning her over. She’s actually mildly impressed he’s even trying to pick her up, he must be very drunk indeed.

When he tries to stand and almost instantly flops back down Emma knows this is going to be harder than she first thought.

“What’s the matter Captain, can’t hold your rum?” she teases, and holy hell, where did that come from. He gives her a look that echo’s her thoughts.

He goes to stand again and this time he’s successful, when Emma goes to put an arm around him for support he takes it to a whole new level and actually picks her up. He completely ignores Emma’s protests as he walks to the hidden door and proceeds to carry her up the stairs, wedding style. If he falls they are both going down the stairs and Emma is so thankful when they reach the top she wants to jump down to the floor and kiss it, but Jones isn’t done yet, he carries her all the way down the hall to his room, through the door and drops her unceremoniously onto the bed.

He falls down on top of her and for a moment his lips hover dangerously close above hers, at the last second he moves his head, and gets sick in the waste basket on the floor. Emma breathes a sigh of relief.

~~~~***~~~~

Someone has just made fresh coffee, Emma can smell it as she makes her way down the hall, and she prays the heavenly scent is coming from her office. Mary Margret exits a door to her right and they walk down the hall together. She looks good, almost glowing, and their conversation is light and upbeat. Mary Margret no longer asks Emma about her wild nights. They’re making the turn into the office and Emma has just convinced herself that yes the coffee is in here when she sees a sight that makes her jump back out into the hallway just in time, dragging Mary Margret with her. Their light banter stops abruptly and she presses her back into the wall, willing it to swallow her whole.

“What the Hell is _he_ doing here?” Emma hisses.

Mary Margret pokes her head back in the door and takes a good look around, when she spots the thing that doesn’t belong she gasps and covers her mouth. Her doe-eyed gaze meets Emma and they both exhale.

Sitting at Emma’s desk, in her chair, is one Killian Jones. Emma hears his now familiar voice float through the door, and he gives a hearty laugh when David tells a joke they’ve all heard half-a-dozen times before.

Belle walks by and makes to ask them why they are in the hall when Mary Margret silently signals her to peek inside. Instantly her eyes alight knowingly and she whispers to them “we re-opened the case of his wife’s murder, of course he was notified.” Belle explained.

Emma thumped her head against the wall, “he was stone cold drunk last night, how is he even functioning this morning” she hisses frustrated. She hasn’t had her coffee yet, it’s too early for this shit. “What am I supposed to do? And where the Hell is Jefferson, someone needs to keep him away from here.”

“He’s in a meeting with Director Superior” Belle informs them.

Just when Emma thinks the hallway can’t get any more crowded Chief Robin Hood from the unit down the hall comes out his door and towards them. His eyes alight when he sees Emma and beckons her to walk towards him, past the open office door. Emma steels her resolve and looking straight ahead at Robin she walks briskly, Mary Margret and Belle time their entrance into the office to cover Emma.

Sitting safely in Robin’s office a fresh coffee in her hands Emma is finally able to breathe.

“Chief Millis phoned ahead and warned me of your predicament” he explains.

“Yeah, that was close” Emma agrees, taking a gentle sip of the steaming liquid.

The Merry Men, as Robin’s unit is fondly referred to as, are a friendly bunch of guys who sometimes work closely with Regina’s unit. Alan Dale a skilled agent and musician (he can play anything with strings), Tucker Monk a down to earth sort and the best PR person Emma has ever met second only to Mary Margret, John Little who standing at 7’1 was anything other than what his name implied, and Will Scarlet a cheeky bastard who knew how to get a job done.

The team was currently shorthanded so Mr. Clarke, an agent with serious allergy issues, and Walter Fatigue a man who suffered from Narcolepsy we’re pulling double duty working for both units, on an as needed bias. The FBI really needed to reevaluate their agents Emma mused as the soft sounds of Walter’s snoring drifted through the office. Mr. Clarke was nowhere to be seen.

Emma felt at ease in their presence and was taking advantage of the luxury of this unplanned break. She was enjoying the normal conversation her and Robin were sharing when Scarlet burst into his boss’s office swearing a blue streak.

“He is a fucking mad-man” Scarlet accused thrusting his fingers perilously at the door, “he absolutely refuses to cooperate, demands he speaks only with you,” here Scarlet turns his threating finger on Robin, “and, and what the Hell is she doing here?” he questions finally noticing Emma in the room.

Emma was studying the picture of a small, curly hair boy on Robin’s desk when she’s suddenly pulled into the conversation.

“Agent Swann is our guest this morning; Chief Mills thought she might be able to help us with our _difficult_ friend.” Robin explains.

Which is news to Emma, and she demonstrates as much by thrusting her eyebrows up her forehead as far as they can go. They’ve been chatting politely, catching up if you will, for the better part of thirty minutes and he hasn’t so much as mentioned work.

Standing on the other side of the two way mirror and Emma can see why Robin didn’t mention their other friend. She was wrong earlier, her eyebrows have now managed to disappear completely a feat she hadn’t thought possible. Was the FBI insane?

“Are you guys fucking insane?” she accuses out loud. Only Will and Robin are in the room with her, Alan and John are inside the question room, cowering in the corner. The man in there with them is beyond furious and Emma can understand why Scarlet described him as a mad-man the look in his eyes could only be described as wild.

“We didn’t know” Robin starts, then cut’s himself off, there is no excuse for this.

“What are the chances they both show up on the same day?” she asks to no one in particular, she’s not really expecting an answer. If God exists he sure has a twisted since of humour she muses, what are the chances Robert Gold and Killian Jones would both show up to the same FBI office on the same day. If the other ever found out it would spell nothing but disaster, there was a restraining order between them somewhere and Emma was sure the space between the two offices wasn’t long enough. Hell they shouldn’t even be in the same building.

Emma suddenly understands the reason for the drinking, and why Jones told her not to come in today. Receiving the letter must have been a terrible trigger and they’re all very lucky he didn’t do anything worse than drowning himself in rum.

~~~~***~~~~

Emma is so happy she has the night off, she needs it, deserves it. One of the girls had slipped her a piece of paper before the show with Jones’ hasty scrawl informing her not to come in the following night. Emma was relaxing in the tub with a good book and an even better glass of wine, but she couldn’t get her mind off Jones and what had happened the night before.

She understood now where his actions had stemmed from no one wants to hear that a case of a loved one has been reopened but shouldn’t he also want it solved? Gold had no qualms about pointing the finger at Jones but not once has Jones ever suspected his father-in-law. Emma had read over the trans-scripts after she returned to her office once Jones’ had left. It was clear both men had genuine love for Mia. Jones never saw the face of their attacker, had the man been wearing a mask?

Emma was sure of one thing though, she believed fully in Jones’ innocence. She had stayed with Jones late into the morning making sure he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. She had stayed with him until even breathing and soft snores filled his room in the club and the floor no longer vibrated with the thumping of heavy bass music. Emma had even managed to catch a few hours of sleep. At one point Jones had even buried his nose into her neck, causing warmth to spread through Emma. It had been so long since someone had held her like this, like they cared. Six years and she still remembered every awful detail of that night. Thinking about it now, in the loneliness of her apartment makes Emma shutter.

She had been waiting her in little yellow bug for a late running Agent Nolan. The car tucked neatly away into a side alley. Emma wasn’t technically an agent yet, she was on probation this stake out being one of her final temporary assignments. The man had literally come out of nowhere, yanking open Emma’s passenger side door, which she had foolishly left unlocked for David, and seating himself inside.

He had pounced on Emma just as she managed to get her door open and the two of them had tumbled out into the dirty alleyway. Sirens filled the previously silent night air as Emma wrestled with the man trying to pin her down. Suddenly the man was fleeing and Emma was pulled into the safety of David’s arms.

He blamed himself, but nothing had happened, Emma was fine. She filed a report like she was supposed to. It was only when she told Henry did things turn bad, he had yelled, and threw things. Nothing ever aimed at her but he did everything short of actually hitting her and repeatedly made it clear he thought it was her fault. She was better off without him.

It was only later, much later, did Emma realize the man who attacked her had been covered in blood. 

~~~~***~~~~

Emma has trained her mind to now be prepared for anything when walking through the doors of Neverland. She’s of course had yet another rough day in the office. Jefferson has made his triumphant return, and while he no longer acknowledges Emma’s presence the rest of the office no longer acknowledges him. They are still part of the same team, and will be forced to work together until the end of this project.

Smee meets her at the door and directs her to go straight to The Captain’s room, something is defiantly off. Emma is therefore not surprised at all to find Jones naked in his bed sandwiched between two beautiful women, also naked, a blonde and redhead Emma has not seen before.

“Ah, Swan” he leers, “won’t you join us?”

“Yes Captain” Emma smiles as she makes her way into the room, stripping her clothes as she does. The blond is clearly working Jones into a withering mess while the redhead looks on, sullen.

If Jones is trying to provoke Emma he’ll have to do better than a _Ménage à trois_ with sisters. Two can play this game, Emma thinks as she slides into bed next the redhead and starts playing with her double plaited hair.


	7. Three's a Crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to thank everyone for your patience while I worked diligently on this chapter. I had lost the writing muse for a while but it seems she is with me again. Remember this started out as a little one-shot and I had no plans to extend it. I know where I am going now it's just a matter of getting there. I hope all this was worth the wait, please enjoy! 
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING** mentions of attempted suicide.

“I’d like you to meet the sister’s Frost” Jones says, his voice thick with lust, blue eyes hooded.

Emma takes stock of the women who are supposed to be her rivals. The blonde’s hair is much longer and lighter than Emma’s in fact her hair is almost white and is done in an elaborate looking fishtail braid. Her skin is smooth and pale where her sister’s is lightly freckled. They have the same short ‘pixie nose’ and ice blue eyes.

The redhead gives a light moan as Emma trails her fingers along that smooth jawline. While Emma can appreciate the female form in all its glory she is not attracted to woman per se, a few weeks of experimenting in her early teens with a dark-haired girl named Lily never worked out. Since then Emma has become an expert at reading people, it is part of her job as a profiler and the redhead is very attracted to women. She still remains hesitant and Emma makes it her new goal to find out why, using the girl’s weakness to her advantage.

“What’s your name?” Emma asks, her voice silky with a hint of seduction, as the two women lock eyes. Jones, Emma notices is suddenly very interested in what she’s doing, virtually ignoring the other sister.

“Anna” the redhead replies, her voice slightly accented in a Scandinavian dialect, Emma files that away for later too.

“You have a girlfriend, don’t you Anna?” Emma says, replicating the accent on her name.

Anna suddenly looks shy and uncomfortable, and Jones gives a gasp of surprise. Emma looks briefly at Jones as realization settles across his face, he didn’t know she was gay, perhaps he had just thought she was timid.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jones growls at the blonde sister.

“You didn’t ask” she replies smoothly in the same, slightly accented voice, all the while flashing innocent eyes at Jones. The way she replies is laced with a sense of superiority. After the affront she ignores Jones and moves her attention to Emma.

“Elsa” Says the blonde, by way of introduction, flipping out her hand in Emma’s direction. “I enjoy female company also” she says with a hint of a mischievous smile.

Emma takes the proffered hand and kisses the back of it with a quick brush of lips to skin, making sure to hold eye contact. These girls were clearly brought in to test Emma in some way but Jones plan seems to be failing. The sisters are made of the same strong, independent woman material Emma is. They are going to get along fabulously.

Emma has a physical exam tomorrow but right now she just can’t be bothered to care what Dr. Whale is going to think about the bite marks on her neck, or light bruising around her wrists. Jones is holding her wrists over her head while she leans back against him, his hard cock nudging her lower back, as Elsa works on licking up the mess she’s made.

It had started off slow, soft kisses between Emma and Elsa, Anna choosing to opt out because it would upset Kris if she were to kiss another girl. Within minutes Emma had turned the very composed Elsa Frost into a hot mess. It wasn’t long before Jones had joined them and the trio really got into it. Kissing Elsa was nice but Emma longed for something more. Jones’ hot demanding lips where now devouring her neck, no doubt leaving possessive red marks, and Emma wondered not for the first time what those lips would be like against hers.

Trapped like she is, between two hot bodies, both wanting her, and wanting to please her Emma feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time, she feels loved, and needed in a way the Team just can’t give her. Elsa’s fingers find Emma’s hot cunt wet and waiting so Emma returns the favour. The physical contact isn’t overwhelming like she feared it would be and as her and Elsa play with each other Emma feels a warmth running through her she can’t name.

Jones’ lips have found their way to her breast and Emma moans around Elsa’s kisses. Jones and Elsa share some unsaid agreement and suddenly Jones is leaning casually against the headboard holding Emma close to him, her back laying right against his hairy chest and oh so tight abs. Elsa has moved down the bed and is putting her mouth to good use elsewhere.

Emma bucks into Elsa’s licks and she knows she won’t last long. Receiving oral is by far her favourite sexual position, it allows her to relax a bit but at the same time she is continuously on edge. She thought Jones was the master but Elsa is unknowingly giving him a run for his money. He’s clearly enjoying the show, taking every opportunity to rut shamelessly against Emma’s backside.

“Come for me Swan” he whispers against her ear, proving once again that he is still in charge.

His hot breath against her skin sends a shiver down Emma’s spine. She likes his rough sex-laced tone that is both gentle and demanding. The words are akin to the caress of a lover, spurring her on. Her body heeds his order. She moans without shame as the coiled heat inside her finally crests.

When Emma comes it actually feels like some tiny person has decided to set off fireworks inside her. Jones holds her steady as wave after wave of pleasure escapes her. Emma’s thighs are coated in her wetness and Elsa dutifully begins licking that up as well.

Jones’ allows Emma to rest for a moment, blissed as she is, but not for long. All too soon his greedy fingers have made their way to Emma’s still moist entrance and he’s working her over again, Elsa watching with keen interest. Jones likes being watched Emma decides; he enjoys putting on this little show for the new girls. Elsa begins touching herself slowly, mimicking Jones’ movements on Emma. Gently he rubs her clit until it becomes too much and Emma starts wiggling again in desire. She can feel the pressure mounting as Jones slips his fingers inside her and Elsa does the same. Heavy breathing once again fills the air, but Emma knows Jones won’t be left unsatisfied this time, his hard cock only too willing to remind her with a gentle nudge.

Emma becomes possessed by the notion that she wants, no needs, Jones to come inside her. She wants to feel him bare again, his hard cock thrusting deep inside her is the only way she’ll ever be truly satisfied. She bucks her hips back against him encouragingly but not over eager and is rewarded with a deep moan and Jones’ teeth nibbling at her shoulder. He shifts under her and removes his fingers allowing his cockhead to slide easily into her. Emma moves around gently desperate for friction of any kind.

Elsa is enjoying the little show too; she rubs enthusiastically at her clit with one hand while pumping her fingers in and out of her dripping pussy with the other, moaning all the while. Her once neatly done braid is coming loose in sections.

Jones’ moans again at all the sensations he’s feeling, seeing, and hearing, and Emma knows he needs to come soon. He should have come already and must be holding himself back.

“Love” he whispers in her ear and Emma longs to wiggle down on him more, “play with Frost a minute while I prepare.”

“Yes Captain” Emma dutifully replies, though reluctant she slides off Jones’ cock, now wet with her own juice and moves toward Elsa.

She pulls Elsa’s fingers from her dripping cunt and brings them to her own mouth, sucking them clean. Elsa and Jones both moan at the sight and Emma slides her own fingers into Elsa’s wetness. Jones thrusts his cock into his hand a few times, coating himself in Emma’s wetness before slipping on a condom. He is clearly beyond turned on, his cock hard and leaking as it is, and an angry shade of red.

At long last Jones is sheathed inside her making her come once more, they are face to face now Emma bouncing vigorously up and down on his long hard cock. She thins again how easy it would be to lean forward and capture his lips with hers. Would his kisses be as demanding as his bites along her neck?

He works her clit hard with his fingers, pulling her from her thoughts, they are on the home stretch. Jones’ pushed his boundaries tonight drawing out the process even more than usual. They both come shouting words of encouragement and praise.

***~~~***

Work wasn’t so bad today Emma muses as she rushes around her apartment in the small amount of time she has between work and going undercover. She managed to pass her physical exam even though Dr. Whale prescribed Emma sleeping pills because he thought the reason she was so tired was because of lack of sleep. Belle thought she had a lead on Mia’s missing brother and promised to keep Emma up to date on the hopes he could provide a breakthrough. Suggest if she may have had any enemies.

Mia seemed like a very ordinary woman, happily married, who would have wanted her dead? Jones’ was convinced it was just a random stabbing incident, that’s why he never blamed his father-in-law but the evidence says different. The grizzly way in which she was murdered, her heart being pulled from her chest all say this was personal, Emma has read the file more times that she wishes to count and still comes up short. The best they can figure is Mia’s death is somehow related to Jones’ work at Neverland; after all he had only been there for about a month before the attack occurred.

Emma is counting down the day until the end of this assignment crossing every day on the calendar off with an angry red line. Less than a week to go, she breathes a sigh of relief at the revelation. She wants to see this case closed and justice for Mia. Emma is starting to see what the other woman saw in Jones how his dangerous edge can pull you in. Tonight she still has to show up at the club but Emma is not performing. After the ecstasy of coming for the final time the night before Emma had been ready to call it a night but Jones had other plans. He entreated Emma in helping the sisters in learn a pole dancing routine for their debut on Saturday. Emma was more than happy to help and looked forward to an easy night.

Emma, Elsa, and Anna had all worked out the details of their Saturday show and Emma and Elsa had just started working on something special for Sunday when an alarming shout came from down the hall. They had been practicing in Jones’ room as he claimed he wouldn’t need it tonight. Emma, ever prepared for danger warned the sisters to stay in the room before dashing out into the hallway, making it just as another door further along opened too and frantic Tinker stood in the hallway wearing nothing but a few soap suds as soon as her eyes landed on Emma she beckoned her forward.

“Swan hurry” she cried, her voice raised in panic, “it’s The Captain!!”

Emma doesn’t need to be told twice; she rushed to the open bathroom door and cautiously looked inside. She was afraid Jones might be in a rage and throwing things but there was no need for the hesitation, at first the room appeared empty. Then she noticed Jones’ hand hanging over the side of the tub.

“I tried to pull him out, but he’s too heavy” Tinker sobs her initial panic turning quickly into hysteria.

“It’s okay Tink” Emma said trying to remain calm “I know CPR, just help me get him out.”

Emma knew calling an ambulance was not a possibility here it was up to her to save Jones’ life. Jones was the protector of the girls in this club they couldn’t afford to lose him. Emma desperately wanted to ask Tinker what had happened, she need answers but saving Jones was top priority. At the very least they had to get him out of the water.

The bath tub is still full to the brim with water, but there is lots of water on the floor too. Jones head is submerged and Emma wonders why Tinker hadn’t yet taken the plug out. With Tinker’s help Emma is able to pull Jones from the tub and the lay him out spread-eagle on the soaking bathroom floor. It’s a wonder neither of them have slipped. It’s a good thing Emma is used to seeing Jones naked because he looks amazing, less so when he’s not breathing though.

Emma kneels beside Jones’ head and remembers the night before how badly she wanted to kiss him and now she had no choice but to force his lips to meet hers, this is what she’s been trained for. Emma kicks herself in to lifesaving mode and Jones is spitting up water in no time.

A shaken Tinker is now wrapped in a fuzzy mint green housecoat and exhales audibly when Jones starts coughing. She wastes no time in handing Emma a towel to prop under Jones’ head.

Despite being revived Jones still appears delirious. Emma secretly loves the way water droplets cling to his naturally long eyelashes.

“What happened?” Emma finally asks, turning to Tinker for answers. Emma’s hand is resting on Jones’ bare chest, keeping him from rising too quickly. Without thinking she runs her thumb along his scar.

“He was drinking, more than usual, I thought nothing of it at first” Tinker explained, looking very pale. “Then he started talking about _her_ ” she whispered, lowering her voice for the last word.

Emma didn’t need to ask who she meant, obviously Jones was still thinking about Mia. Jones suddenly grabbed Emma’s wrist as if to keep her from moving her hand from his chest.

“And then?” Emma asked uncertain.

“He said things, awful things about how he wished he was dead too, that living wasn’t worth it.” Tinker was close to tears and Emma longed to comfort her listening to Jones’ death wish couldn’t have been easy.

“He said, he feels like a shadow, likes he’s not really here, just a shade of his former self.” A silent tear rolls down Tinker’s cheek and she looks sad. “He’s so good to us” she whispers, “I don’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t for him.”

“What do you mean?” Emma whispers back, Jones is in a hazy state, but he’s right there and talking about this type of thing right in front of him could be upsetting to say the least.

“I wouldn’t stay at Neverland if it weren’t for him.” Tinker confides.

“The black moods and excessive drinking, is he like this often?” Emma asked, from what she had seen so far this seemed out of character for Jones even though she barely knew him. Emma wondered if this outburst could this be related to the investigation.

“No”, Tinker said shaking her head gloomily, “I can see the heavy heart he carries but he never lets it show” Tinker looked down at her boss, a deep frown creasing her brow.

“He’s not usually like this, it’s normal for him to have a couple glasses of run throughout a night but it’s typically mixed with coke or he’ll only have a few fingers at a time. He was drinking a lot to night, he’d already been drinking when I met him in his room.” Tinker sniffles trying to keep down a sob working its way up her throat.

“It’s not my fault is it?” She suddenly asked worried “I went to get him another drink, when he asked, I thought he would be fine” Tinker is on the verge of tears, and she heaves another sob. “I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone, not after what he said, I, I just didn’t think he’d try anything.” Tinker lets the tears fall freely now, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound of her sobs.

“Swan” Jones manages to choke out, his throat undoubtedly raw.

“It’s okay, I’m here” she says tenderly, bringing her other hand to stroke his damp hair. For a moment they lock eyes, she can see he’s still out of sorts. Emma decides it would be better to get him in his bed, he’ll be more comfortable that way.

“Tinker, can you please go get the ladies in The Captain’s room, with their help the four of us should be able to move him.” Emma asks and Tinker is gone in a flash.

Someone had to stay and monitor Jones Emma decided. Tinker was convinced she should be the one to stay because it was her fault Jones tried to drown himself. Emma repeatedly told Tinker that no, it wasn’t her fault and if anything she should go home and rest. Eventually it was just Emma left, having seen the Frost sister’s off safely. Jones was propped up in his big bed he looked lonely in such a large space all by himself. Emma had pulled the stiff wooden chair from his desk over to the side of the bed. Emma watched him sleeping, watched the fall and rise of his chest, proving he was still alive. He didn’t look peaceful though he still looked as though he bore the whole weight of the world on his shoulders.

Suddenly his eyes flickered open, he stared around the room in panic before landing his eyes on her.

“Swan” he choked out in mild surprise, his voice still raw sounding.

“Captain” Emma replied formally.

He looks like a man lost at sea, like he’s still downing, still waiting for someone to throw him a life preserver. He doesn’t know how he got from the bathroom to his bed.

Emma give a sigh of relief, grateful.

“How are you feeling Captain?” Emma asks.

In response he brings his hand to his head, it clearly hurts.

“Where, how?” he mumbles out.

“You hit your head in the bath, Captain, you gave Tinker quite a scare.” Emma said moving to lean over him.

He met her eyes, “we were all scared” she confessed.

“Are you my nurse Swan?” he asks, and his voice is almost back to its normal, playful tone.

“If you want me to be” she teases back.

“Swan” he says at the same time Emma says “Captain.”

“You first” Emma offers but he shakes his head no and points at his throat. Emma hands his a cup of water and he takes a few slow sips from it. Emma has been practicing a speech in her head while Jones slept and now it’s time to deliver it. She stands up and walks to the head of the bed.

“Captain” she begins shakily, “What were you thinking? Don’t you realises we need you here?” her voice steadily picks up strength when he gives her his full attention. “What do you think would happen to us girls if you left? You’re the reason they stay. Do you really think your _friend_ Mr. Nightshade would take care of us?”

Emma can see the doubt in Jones’ eyes and she hopes she hasn’t gone too far, or over steeped her bounds. She still needs to work here for the next five days.

“I wanted you to know that we need you here, and that I was the one who saved you” he voiced is tinted with defiance but Emma can’t be bothered to care, she needs to get her message across. His eyes open a little wider at that and he cautiously brings his fingers up to brush his lips.

“Please, I’m begging you, Captain, on behalf of all the ladies who work here, please don’t try something like that again.

“Tomorrow night” Jones’ says in his croaky voice and Emma stiffens in fear waiting for the repercussions of her actions. “I want you here, early.”

He doesn’t sound mad, but it’s hard to tell with his voice the way it is. Emma lets a small smile play across her lips and she lowers her eyes as she says “yes Captain.”


	8. The Frozen Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da another Chapter! The reason this is up so quickly is because I had most of this written a long time ago, in fact I had started writing this one before the last one I posted then changed my mind on the chronology.   
> This is a Killian POV chapter!!   
> **TRIGGER WARNNING** descriptions of a violent murder/ mentions of attempted suicide   
> I was as vague on the murder as possible, I really didn't want to write about it and I knew people wouldn't want to read it.   
> (you all know what happens anyway)

Killian is holding Mia’s hand tightly as they walk along the sidewalk, lost in the company of each other nothing else bears noticing. It’s just the two of them in this whole wide world, it’s only early October but the night is cool keeping the better part of the population indoors. They pass a parked car tucked into a dark alleyway and Mia is giggling at something he had said and he is grinning manically back at her. They pass under a lamppost, its orange light refracting their shadows around them.

“I love you” Killian whispers, staring deep into Mia’s eyes because he means it.

She secretly likes it when he gets sentimental like this. He’s the type that will suggest they renew their vows every few years, and won’t wait for Valentine’s Day to bring her gifts like chocolate or flowers. She smiles brightly at him but doesn’t respond, just leans up and kisses his nose, before letting go of his hand and jogging a few paces ahead of him.

He catches up and pulls her into yet another secluded alley. They lean into each other and Killian rubs his nose along Mia’s before capturing her lips with his. They kiss long and deep until Mia sucks on Killian’s tongue causing him to moan into her mouth. Killian had never kissed anyone the way he kisses Mia. They bring out the best in each other, silently demanding more.

He pulls back and looks at her, silently asking for her permission. It would be so exciting, so thrilling, if they had sex in public. He licks his lips in anticipation as she nods subtly. They never do things like this they don’t have crazy outdoor sex. He hoists her legs up around him, her skirt accommodatingly long yet not constricting. Killian’s heart beats faster at the thrill of it all. His back rubs roughly against the harsh brick but he doesn’t care, Mia is in his arms, and their lips fight for dominance against the other, both are evenly matched. He usually takes his time worshiping every inch of her, but not tonight. His adapt fingers find her sacred place and Mia lets out a cry of pleasure.

Killian’s new job at the Neverland club is going well; it’s why they were out celebrating tonight. The girls are teaching him new things to try with Mia and they are both benefiting from this advice. It’s Killian’s job to make sure the dancers are not being mistreated and he takes pride in the fact Mr. Pan trust him with such an important task. Just last night Killian had hired two more girls, he had to watch them pleasure unsuspecting patrons to gauge their abilities. At first Killian loathed the idea of viewing such a private act but Pan had pointed out it was the only way he could gauge their skills short of fucking them himself, and that Killian had decided was something he’d never do, not so long as he was a happily married man.

Mia is the love of his life and everything is perfect, until suddenly it isn’t.

Someone else has entered their shadowed paradise; Killian can hear the ticking of the man’s wrist watch as he approaches them. The ticking echoes loudly in the tight space, and otherwise silence of the night, the sound even seems to drown out Mia’s heavy breathing. Killian gives Mia a reluctant nudge and the love struck couple untangle themselves and make to be on their way, the spontaneous moment has passed.

It is then that Killian sees the flash of silver and a burning sensation spreads across his chest. In a delayed action he brings his hand up to the wound as his knees hit the cold ground. Pulling his hand away, it feels wet; Killian is still in a state of confusion his brain refusing to process what is happening. Mia’s scream pierces the still night air. At first he thinks she is crying out for him, and he turns to comfort her, too late realizing it is she who is being attacked.

“Mia!” he cries out as the attacker pulls something from her body and Killian thinks he’s going to be sick.

His devilish work done the attacker flees leaving Killian alone to cradle his dead wife, crying openly. The once silent night comes alive with the sounds of sirens.

***~***

Killian awakes drenched in a cold sweat, breathing hard and clutching at his chest as his heart beats furiously with in. He tries opening his eyes but the vast darkness of the room is overwhelming. What a nightmare. He’d been having the best dream when suddenly it had turned violent. Killian rolled over, arm extended intending to wrap it protectively around Mia and pull her close, only to realize he was alone in the spacious bed.

The spot next to him is still warm and he has the vaguest notion of falling asleep next to someone, Mia obviously. He rolls over pressing himself into the warmth she left behind. He inhales the lingering scent left on her pillow expecting the familiar tangerine and nutmeg. Instead his nose is met with the sharp scent of cinnamon.

Killian pulls back, crinkling his nose at the unfamiliar _eau du cologne._ It is not particularly unpleasant just not what he was expecting. It is enough to help lift the fog of a rum-drunk sleep and Killian clutches his heart again at the realization he was not merely dreaming but re-living the night of his wife’s murder.

There is a soft nock at the door and Killian’s thoughts finally catch up to him, the bed he is in is far too big to be the tiny thing cramped into his small apartment. Killian doesn’t remember how he made it up the stairs, or why he is sleeping in ‘his’ bed at the club. He fumbles for his phone and swiping it discovers the time is a cheery 6:30am and he has an appointment at the FBI office for nine.

Pieces of the previous night slowly leak their way back into his memory. Yesterday afternoon he opened the letter from the FBI, he had called and made an appointment right way. Mail wasn’t delivered on the weekends which meant it had sat in his post box since at least Friday. Killian remembers wanting to forget, wanting to make the pain go away. He remembers his first glass of rum and coke as he prepared for the evening, and just barely remembers handing a note to Matron Lucas telling her to give it to Swan. Tonight Killian has to do another interview, even though he’s not really in the mood.

Killian clutches at his head, he thinks of Swan and the scent from the pillow drifts back to him. That can’t be right. Killian tries to shake the thought, but that too is a bad idea. He doesn’t feel hung-over but he is definitely dehydrated and overtired. It appears Killian slept in his dress trousers, his shirt and blazer neatly folded, sit proudly atop his mahogany desk. The room smells of sick but Killian sees no signs that he was ill. Another soft knock connects with the door and it’s magnified tenfold in the spacious room, causing Killian head to thump in time with the resonance. It’s only twenty to seven and it’s already been a long day. Killian needs some extra greasy bacon and a Gatorade; it’s too early for this shit.

The FBI building isn’t as bland as he had always remembered it to be. He’s actually having a good conversation with an interesting agent. He and Dave exchange a bout of light-hearted banter that is good for Killian’s soul. He still doesn’t want to be here, he longs for the short lived bliss rum brings him, but they are reinvestigating Mia’s death, something new must have come up, after all this time, a lead, a clue that might lead to an arrest. His heart leaps at the chance of finding justice for her, maybe then he can move on. It’s what she’d want he tells himself as he twists his wedding band around his finger idly.

Killian is casually leaning back in an absent agent’s desk chair when a movement from the corner of his eye captures his attention. He thought he saw, no he is mistaken, he’s sure lots of FBI agents have gorgeous silky blonde hair. He misses most of the joke Dave is telling him but manages to catch the punch line (something about Canadians) and gives a deep laugh he no longer knew he was capable of producing.

Killian is distracted from Dave again when two absolutely stunning women walk into the office. The redhead is pretty but bookish, as though she spends all her free time in libraries and used book stores. The woman with the no-nonsense raven pixie cut is feisty, Killian can tell from here and checks out the endless span of leg on display that finally disappears into a skirt he is sure only just meets the FBIs required length.

 _Interesting_ , the top three buttons of her short sleeved cardigan are undone and the way she’s dressed almost makes Killian think she’s looking to get noticed and sure enough Dave’s eyes have been following the new arrival with her every step. Only he’s not looking at her like a man who is wondering what’s underneath, he looks like he knows. He reassess the woman, she has that, ‘I’ve just been laid’ look. Killian doesn’t want to start any shit, but he knows there is some kind of rule about two people in the same unit dating.

“Mate” Killian hisses trying to subtly get Dave’s attention, but just as he’s about to hand out some free advice Chief Regina Mills makes her debut and asks Killian to please follow her. He does only chancing a glance back once to see Dave has gone back to staring at the hellcat in heels.

The interview process is standard and Killian willingly replies to even the most awkward questions, giving as much detail as he can. With the dream from this morning still fresh in his mind many of the little details feel fresh, even though it’s been six years. After Mia’s death Killian didn’t know how he was going to continue living without her, he spent hours sitting alone in his flat, stopped answering his phone, and didn’t go to work.

After weeks of ignoring him Mr. Pan had simply shown up at the apartment, said he had a new job for him, if he wanted. It was to go out on the street and actively pick up women to work in the club. Killian wanted nothing to do with it, he was still aching for Mia, and the scar on his chest now marred him. He knew then that he would never love again, not the way he had loved Mia. It was a cold hearted person Pan needed and so Killian became the cold hearted being Pan wanted. Killian left emotions out of the equation and never let the girls get too close. He would switch up often, never spending more than two night in a row with the same girl.

One night he was out with Smee, driving around, looking for someone new, that’s when Killian saw her. For a fleeting moment his heart lifted, the name of his dead wife hung perilously on his lips. It wasn’t Mia of course, it never could have been Mia, but she just looked similar enough. her name was Ruby Lucas but Killian called her Red. Giving the girls special names meant it didn’t get too personal. They called him Captain; most of the girls working at Neverland didn’t even know his real name.

***~***

“Honey, I’m home” Killian says entering the apartment.

He has with him a bouquet of red roses. He marches directly to the round table in the middle of the living room all that sits on it is a framed picture of Mia and an antique vase that had been a wedding present. Killian replaces the dead roses with the fresh ones, it’s something he does every week, but the ritual is not as rewarding as it usually is. It is something that helps Killian fill-up his life, but he is left feeling as empty as ever. Maybe taking a night off from the club wasn’t such a great idea. He has to do an interview tonight, two new girls have just arrived and Pan has asked him to pick them up.

The drive to the docks feels long tonight. Killian didn’t realise what sort of business he had gotten himself into, working for Pan. Neverland was only the tip of the iceberg and the longer you worked there, the more you were allowed to know. Pan had his hands in everything, drug smuggling, human trafficking, black mailing, child sex slaves. It was a nasty business and not for the first time Killian wished he had never been introduced to Peter Pan.

As he pulls up to the docks Killian can see the large cargo ship waiting for him, Darling Shipping Co. painted on the side. Most of the cargo is legal but Killian can already see some of Pan’s labourers unloading the drugs and other “goods” that are not. Mr. Darling ran a very tight ship until about four years ago when his company almost went under. Pan needed a stake in a shipping company that ran across the Atlantic. The timing couldn’t have been better, Darling had a daughter Wendy who attended an American university and Killian had been sent to go pick her up, hold her as collateral so Darling would agree to work for Pan. It was one of the things Killian was least proud of, he had tried refusing to be a part of the shady side of Neverland but Pan had twisted his arm, he had no choice.

A gruff looking man with a big black beard approached Killian, and he recognized him as the ship’s Captain. He was holding a clipboard and two women were trailing behind him, looking around wildly and taking in the sights.

“Good evening Jones” the man calls out, giving Jones a greasy smile.

“Evening Teach” Killian replies, coldly, the two men are not friends. Killian was coerced in to this, Teach practically volunteered.

“I brought you some new toys” Teach says, pointing at the girls following in his wake.

Killian practically scowls at that, he doesn’t think of the girls as toys, he treats every one of them as a princess until proved otherwise. The two new arrivals are no different. Killian needs the distraction tonight, he doesn’t want to think of Mia, or Swan, he longs for the bliss of forgetting.

Swan has slowly been chipping away at his frozen heart; she has endeared herself to him. The new girls are exactly what he needs. Learning the curves of their bodies and running his hands through their long hair is suddenly all he can think about.

He roughly takes the clipboard from Teach and looks it over. Their medical paper work is signed by a Dr. Edwin Lynn, just as all the illegals are. He too is being blackmailed by Pan. Reading the paperwork Killian discovers the girls are Sisters Elsa and Anna Frost; they are well-dressed and were clearly not stowed below decks with the other ‘cargo’. Killian reluctantly adds his own signature to the paperwork, confirming he was the one who picked them up.

“Welcome to America” Killian says to the girls a bright, but fake, smile illuminating his face.

He takes the girls, one on each arm and leads them down the wharf, back to his waiting car, with a spring in his steep. He gets them set up in a posh hotel, using the company credit card.

As the night goes on Killian truly enjoys the company of the feisty blond and her shy sister. The only time Swan crosses his mind is when he thinks of how he can use the sisters to make her jealous. Once she is angry at him it will be easier to kick her to the floor permanently. He can’t let her take over his thoughts. Once she is in his head it won’t be long before she is in his heart.

***~***

Killian is beginning to feel like an intruder in his own bed. His whole plan has backfired spectacularly. The sisters had started off as a great idea; they were sexy, exotic and sure to get a rise out of Swan. He needed to let her know he could have fun with other woman; she wasn’t the only outlet he ran too. He needed to convince himself that too. Swan had remained cool and calm during the introductions; she showed absolutely no signs of jealousy, just took it as another challenge. If he had invited Red to share his bed with two other women all hell would have broken loose.

Now Anna is sitting in his chair, at his desk, wrapped in his fleece robe, drinking his rum, while Elsa and Swan have started a ‘girls only’ make out session. Instead of being a punishment session for Swan, it’s turned into a punishment for him! He’s jacking off to the soft moans and even softer touches of Elsa and Swan but it’s not the same, it’s not what he pictured happening.

“May I join you?” Killian asks, sliding up behind Swan who is busy tangling tongues with Elsa. His voice comes out in a low growl but manages to come off sounded more like a child who had behaved badly and was now asking for a treat he knew he didn’t deserve.

“Only if you can keep up” she responds playfully, breathlessly.

He doesn’t even think about admonishing her for not giving the standard reply. Somehow their dynamic has changed. Elsa is making her bolder, more sure and less submitting.

As Killian playfully bites at Swan’s neck while playing with her pert nipple he thinks back to how he’s behaved too. The way he asked to join in, that’s not like him, the old him would have just taken over. Perhaps it had been the beautiful sight of the two women together, he felt like an intruder on their private moment.

Swan moans again as his hard cock brushes against her luscious arse and he moves his hand down from her breast to swat it. He wants to mark every inch of her, he has not lost that feeling of desire to possess.  

Later he’s relaxing with his own drink watching Emma teach the sisters a pole dancing routine. Lazily touching himself, he doesn’t think it’s possible to come again but he’s not ruling anything out.

Swan has agreed to teach the two girls a routine in time for their debut on Saturday night.

***~~~***

Killian is feeling the depression again. Swan is spending the night with the beautiful Frost sisters, working on their pole dancing. Still determined to leave Red out in the cold Killian has neglected her yet again for the company of Tinker. The night starts off alright with Killian pacing himself in his rum drinking. Instead of making the hurt go away is only adds to Killian’s pain, instead of forgetting, Killian remembers. He remember what those first few months were like, that feeling that he was drowning, he was all alone and he was drowning and there was no one who could save him. He burdens Tinker with his thoughts as the come pouring out, he’s not even thinking about what he’s saying, and how it correlates to what he is feeling. All he wants to feel is numb.

Killian is sitting alone in the bathtub trying to enjoy the relaxing atmosphere. Tinker has gone to get him another drink and that when he hears the voice in the water. Like a siren calling out to him, _she_ is calling his name.

“Mia” he whispers back, looking down he can she her face in the water and Killian knows he’s had it wrong all these years. He was never the one drowning, she was. The phantom in the water reaches out to him, begging for him to pull her up and save her. _Save her_. That’s all Killian ever wanted was to save her. He failed her once before, he will not fail her again, Killian takes the plunge, chasing the ghost of his wife.

Killian awakes in his bed at the club for the second time this week with no recollection of how he got there. Swan is beside him and part of him feels pleased by this, as if suddenly the stars have aligned and everything is right with the world. After making sure he’s okay she goes in to a rant that Killian is struggling to keep up with. He wants to nod his head in agreement but it huts to move so he stoically watches her, and waits for her to finish.

“Tomorrow night” Killian manages to get out with his sore throat “I want you here, early.”

He sees Swan viable stiffen, obviously anticipating punishment, but then she demurely lowers her eyes and gives him exactly what he wants to hear.

“Yes Captain” he can hear the smile in her voice, and he thinks there is no sound more pleasing. In fact it is a sound warm enough to melt a frozen heart. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the wonderful comments, you guys are great and really keep me going.   
> I have started posting a new story for the Sherlock fandom and hope to alternate posting between the two as frequently as possible. If you guys liked Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series and are also a fan of Sherlock I'd recommend it, hopefully I can do it justice.


	9. Rule Breaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm not dead! I know you've all waited for this for a long time, honestly I had most of it written near the beginning of June but I had to walk away from it for a bit, and I'm so glad I did. Looked at it again to day and re-wrote some things and I'm feeling much better about this chapter now then the direction it was headed in. 
> 
> I thank you all for your kind encouragement and lovely comments. 
> 
> Also to switch things up a bit there is some changing POV, I hope it's not too confusing.

Emma is first on stage after the opening number, she is stripping to Pat Benatar’s _Hit Me with Your Best Shot_ and she can’t help it if she uses Jones as her mark. He is sitting up close to the stage, right in her direct line of sight and _fuck it_ if he just doesn’t look delicious tonight. His hair is still wet and Emma wants to dig her hands in to it, seeing that reminds her of the shower they shared before she had to start ‘work.’

Emma had a long and difficult day at the office, Belle was getting close to finding Mia’s brother and while Emma didn’t think he could provide them with any new information she had to stay positive. Throughout the day her mind kept drifting to the night before when she had saved Jones’ life, and the things she had said to him afterwards in her anger. She didn’t want him to die because she needed him for the case, but this _thing_ , this _feeling_ she had, ran way deeper than the case.

The sky had steadily grown darker all day, threating rain. The heavens finally opening up just as Emma left work. She fled from the building to her yellow Beetle in record time. She was still wet upon reaching the club, no point in drying off at home when she had no idea what Jones had planned for her. Would she be punished for showing concern? She had tried in vain to make it not sound personal but she was refusing to admit to herself what she’s been feeling.

Jones had greeted her at his bedroom door, waiting with his black scarf in hand, wearing only his robe. He took a moment to silently appraise her, using his forefinger to tilt her head and examine her neck. Emma knew he was admiring his own handy work, forever immortalizing the image of his teeth marks indenting her delicate flesh. Emma longed to bring her hand up and cover the bruise so intense was his gaze but she refrained.

He brought his hand up and ran it through her drenched locks. Emma’s only wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, the top is soaked through and her white silky bra on display. It’s the kind that clasps in the front and the back is adorned with a pretty lace pattern. His gaze lingers on her breasts, studying how they rise and fall as she breathes, and even though he’s seen her naked there is something tantalizing about seeing them through her shirt.

“Swan” he says slowly, his voice full of real concern, “you’re all wet, and not in the fun way. Let’s get you warmed up.” He winks suggestively then gently takes the scarf, blindfolding her, taking her hand he guides her down the hallway.

Emma had expected to be greeted with harsh words and rough hands not this uncommon kindness. Soft words and gentle touches, Jones was throwing her off on purpose she decided, trying to rile her up. She inhaled deeply and caught the now familiar scent of his scarf.

It didn’t matter Emma knew where they were going; clearly Jones had taken great pains to make this moment perfect. Emma knew when they entered the bathroom the warmth of the tiles as they met her feet, the smell of soap and shampoo in the air. Emma hopes that he’s not still feeling suicidal.

“I’m going to fuck you against the side of the shower” he whispers harshly against her ear, “and you are not allowed to come.”

This is more like what Emma had expected. He leaves her standing in the middle of the bathroom fully clothed and she hears him turn on the shower. As thick steam begins to fill the air Emma’s senses are dulled even more. When Jones finally settles himself back beside her his hands are wet and he’s fully naked.

“Fuck Swan, you _are_ gorgeous” he says lewdly, annunciating each word. His voice has dipped to that sinful register awfully quick and Emma wonders if he thought about this all day like she did.  

“Feel my cock” he says taking her small hands in his bigger ones and bringing them to his hard aching member. “So hard for my _dirty_ Swan” He thrusts leisurely a few times into her waiting hands teasing her as much as he’s testing himself before walking away again.

It’s killing Emma wondering what he’s going to do next. He comes up behind her giving her ass a squeeze and a hard slap for good measure. Part of her wants him to just get on with it and the other part wants this teasing to never end.

This time when he comes up to her he slowly undresses her, as if he were unwrapping a present. He does it one handed and Emma guesses he’s using his other hand to jack off. He moans obscenely and she knows she’s right. She’s had a tough day and if this is his idea of punishment she’ll take it willingly.

Jones takes both of her hands in his and steers her carefully towards the shower. The water is almost too hot but after the cold rain it is a pleasant sensation burning away the grime of the day. Emma moans as the water pounds at her back in a massaging way. Jones climbs in behind her still moaning and she wishes she could see his flushed cock, hard and wanting her, it doesn’t matter she’s seen it before.

He splays her hands against the cool tile of the shower stall and roughly kicks her legs apart. Emma knows his heart’s not in it this show of force is just that a show. She’s wet for him, her clit throbbing expectantly already. Her body has gotten used to the kind of sex she receives from Killian and it knows it’s about to receive more.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asks over the pounding of the water, pressing his long hard body against hers.

“Yes” Emma says annoyed, she has no intention of giving into him.

“Yes what?” he asks boorishly slapping her ass again, harder than before.

“Yes Captain” Emma breaths out, this is all to remind her he’s in charge. She can only play the part of the good little sub for so long; Emma has her own dominate streak that is begging to be let out.

“That’s a good Swan” he murmurs against her ear.  

In an instant Emma finds herself bound to the shower stall, cuffs around her wrists and ankles that she didn’t remember seeing there before. She lets out a gasp of surprise and puts up a mini struggle, testing the strength of the binds, but she doesn’t move.

“Didn’t think I’d let you get away from that easy, did ya now?” Jones says roughly then nibbles at her ear.

Jones grinds his aching cock against Emma’s plump ass, moaning and grunting all the while, squeezing her globes in his rough hands. They are real moans of pure pleasure; The Captain is enjoying this very much.

The restraints mean Emma can’t move back against him even though her body is aching too. She moans loudly when he pushes a long finger into her moist asshole and he gives a deep growl of satisfaction.

“Such a good little whore” he says as he gently massages the tight, ringed hole, and it’s the first time Emma feels hurt by the slander. She actually whimpers a bit as if he physically hurt her. Whores were someone you had sex with when you didn’t want the sex to mean anything. When you had sex with someone you didn’t care about. When all you did was take your pleasure and give nothing in return.

Emma would never admit it out loud but she had come to care for Killian Jones, she remembered what it was like watching Red suck at his cock, her warning song, and her punishment for it Jones hardly paid attention to her now. Emma had wanted to become the new Red for the sake of the case, worm her way into Killian Jones’ bed, not his heart. She didn’t want to be his whore; she wanted to be his lover.

“You’re mine” he bit out, his only warning before he shoves his hard and aching cock straight into her ass.

Emma screams at the intrusion, unexpected as it was. Jones pushes himself into her over and over again, showing no mercy. The only friction Emma gets is the odd time her swollen nub rubs against the slick shower tile. It’s a brutal fucking but Emma takes thrust after thrust of Jones’ unrelenting cock, at last he stills pushing ever deeper inside her.

He sags against her back, utterly spent and pulls his cock from her. Emma can feel thick hot liquid dripping down her leg, slowly being washed away by the water, and she shivers at the thought. Jones hadn’t used a condom, he had come inside her. Had he simply forgotten, in the heat and excitement of the moment?

He said nothing to her afterwards, just carefully un-cuffed her wrists and ankles, removed her blindfold and began gently washing her, washing away the evidence of what he had done. He took care to rub Vaseline around her hole and even kissed the still red hand print from where he had slapped her earlier.

***~~~***

When Emma finished her song Matron Lucas was waiting backstage with a note for her.

It was short and simple, and from Jones, ‘Swan, come sit with me.’

Emma found him not up front by the bar where she expected to see him, but in the back corner with Mr. Nightshade.

Killian relished the show tonight Swan certainly knows how to turn him on. The punishment earlier had been fun but now he can’t wait to get her upstairs and lavish her for the job well done but Felix is yammering on and on about the next shipment. Killian has gotten use to Swan’s presence beside him, it feels natural he hardly notices she’s there so when she stiffens beside him he immediately becomes concerned.

Emma is scouting the club for anything amiss, safely by Jones’ side when an imposing stranger makes his way through the crowd. Emma doesn’t remember seeing him here before but in the half-light of the club something about him looks familiar. His hair is long for a man of his age but it’s well-kept and he wears a fine suit. He looks right at her and Emma feels as though she’s been struck by lighting and freezes under his intense glare. Her hand unconsciously griping hold of Jones’ well placed thigh almost to the point of digging her nails in.

Swan’s hand had been lightly resting on his thigh abruptly grasps him a little tighter. Killian looks up to meet her eye, but she’s not looking at him, she’s staring out into the club at an older man making his way across the floor. The man carries an air of authority about him so it’s no wonder he’s managed to capture even Swan’s attention. The way she’s looking at him makes Jones squirm as he feels the possessiveness and jealousy returning.

“That, is Mr. Pan” Killian whispers into her ear, “the owner of this club.” Jones can’t help it if his voice comes out a little rough if Pan decided to take Swan away from him he wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“I thought you were the owner, Captain” she playfully whispers back, her hand gliding effortlessly further up his thigh, toward his waiting member, still half hard from the memory of that stunning performance.

A thought strikes Killian then, Swan wasn’t admiring Pan she was frighten of him, then again most people are. Felix too has grown quiet at the sight of his boss, and lover. It’s no great secret that Pan is Felix’s Dom, and the one who gave him that wicked looking scar, marring his features lest others find him attractive.

“Mr. Nightshade and I just look after the club for Mr. Pan. He is a busy man with many endeavours, this club being very low on his list in rank of importance.” Killian explains quietly, reassuringly, he’s noticed Pan noticing them. Killian slips his arm around Swan’s waist giving her a quick squeeze.

Mr. Pan is dressed in a three-piece Burgundy suit with a Charcoal Grey shirt and black skinny tie tonight with Grey Derby dress shoes, Hugo Boss if Killian isn’t mistaken. For a man in his fifties he’s always managed to catch the eye of everyone in a room. Men, women, boys, and girls all flock to him. He’s always reminded Killian of the tale of the Pied Piper the man has charisma in spades and all the makings of a cult leader.

He stops to shake hands with a stray patron before honing in on the trio. Killian notices Felix has gone a deadly shade of pale and wonders if he should remind him to breath. Just before Pan reaches them Felix audibly gulps and his eyes go wide with fear as he puts his hand to his throat. Killian follows the movement and notices what should have been obvious; Felix isn’t wearing the fairy dust necklace Pan gave him. The man habitually wears the gaudy trinket and the one night he doesn’t is the night Pan actually shows up.

Killian longs to say something calming but it’s too late Pans’ shadow falls over them as he approaches and suddenly he’s there.

“Good to see you, Captain, how are you this evening?” Pan asks, his voice smooth.

He has not yet acknowledged Felix, Pan greets Killian as his equal but because Felix is his sub he is beneath him.

“Very well, Sir, thank you” Killian gives a slight nod of his head in a sign of respect.

“And who, may I ask, is your charming new friend?” His leer falls to Emma and she forces herself not to shiver under that domineering gaze.

“Mr. Pan, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to Neverland’s newest jewel, the audacious Black Swan.” Killian picks up her hand from where it rest on his thigh and gives it a light kiss before holding it aloft to Pan, who gives it the same treatment.

Swan is being good, he didn’t have time to explain protocol for being around Pan but she’s kept her mouth shut and her eyes downcast in a polite way.

“Felix” Pan says in a meaningful tone, finally acknowledging the presence of his sub, holding his right hand aloft Felix quickly takes it and kisses the emerald ring placed there, keeping his head low. Killian can tell he’s praying Pan won’t notice the absence of the necklace but it’s really only a matter of time, Pan notices everything.

“Shall I fetch you a drink, Sir.” Felix says already rising to go, not even waiting for a reply.

Pan immediately takes the spot vacated by Felix and Killian wishes he really had left for upstairs sooner, who knows how long Pan will keep him tied up. He can feel the tension vibrating off Swan and longs to do more to comfort her, which is a surprising notion in itself, but to do so in front of Pan would be mutiny. If Pan even thought there was the slightest bit of affection on Killian’s side Swan would be gone in a heartbeat and he would never see her again.

“How are my Snowflakes?” Pan asks in a conspirator way, inclining his head towards Killian and keeping his voice low.

“Spectacular” Jones replies in the same hushed tone, “Swan here has been teaching them and I have no qualms about saying they are learning from the best, truly Swan here is a natural.”

Emma preens at the complements not meant for her ears, damn it if all that praise doesn’t just boost her ego a tiny bit and after the day she’s had, it’s just what she needs. Emma is doing her best to pretend that she’s not listing into the conversation between Pan and Jones but this might be her only chance to glean something criminal.

Felix returns with the drinks and Emma notices his dismay at being ignored yet again. He tries in vain to keep his emotions from showing, as he kneels, unasked on the club floor at Pan’s feet. Jones politely takes his rum and coke but Pan makes no move to accept the gin and tonic waiting for him.

“Red tells me you’ve been neglecting her in favour of your new toy” Pan says without emotion and just loud enough Emma can hear him.

“Did she now?” is Jones’ cryptic reply. Emma can tell Jones’ doesn’t want to get Red in trouble with Pan but at the same time has to validate his actions.

When Pan gives no further response Killian takes his cue.

“Red has displeased me” he said, not showing all his cards at once, “nothing major but the neglect is all part of her punishment. I assure you, Sir, it’s in her best interest.” Jones’ keeps his tone level.

Pan’s only response is a discouraging hum.

At long last Pan takes his drink and sips at it while continuing to make small talk with Jones. Eventually he relaxes into the plush leather sofa and begins to stroke his hands lazily through Nightshades’ hair. Emma watches him briefly tense up, before relaxing into what is clearly a familiar routine. Everything is going along so smoothly that Emma knows something has got to give.

The moment happens when Pans’ hand travels down Nightshades’ neck. Emma swears even the lights give a flicker at Nightshades’ shivered response.

“Felix, love” Pan says tightly and Emma gives a little squirm at the tightness of his voice, as though he’s holding in all his rage. “You’re not wearing my little gift, you know, the one that mars you as mine” he bites out the last word and Emma is so ready to bolt if it wasn’t for Jones’ arm snaked around her, holding her to his side she’d be long gone.

“Captain” Pan says, turning his steely glare on Jones, “It appears I have a sub that needs to be punished, do you have a room available?”

Even though the murderous gaze isn’t meant for her, Emma shrinks where she sits, safe, on the other side of Jones. If looks could kill they’d all be dead.

“Of course, Sir” Jones replies calmly, “You always have a room ready. Swan?” he says turning to Emma, “please return our empty glasses to the bar and fetch the key for the Jungle Room from Matron Lucas.”

Emma, ever the humble servant in Pans’ eyes takes the empty drink glasses back to the bar being careful to know which glass is which. Jefferson intercepts her. He’s only aloud back in the club on the condition that he is bugged and David has to sit in the surveillance van outside. The slightest sign of misconduct and Jefferson gets pulled.

“Is that-” He beings to ask as Emma vehemently shakes her head no silently begging him not to ask the whole question aloud.

“Just get this to Belle as soon as you can” she says handing him the glass Pan drank from.

“What about you?” He asks showing some mildly genuine concern.

“I’m a big girl I’ll be fine for one night.” She gives him a brief smile, knowing David is listening in.

He takes the glass and slowly, casually, so as not to draw attention to himself exits the club.

Emma finds the Matron and has no trouble getting the key and swiftly returns to Jones’ side.

Emma watched in horror as Pan grabbed Nightshades’ ear roughly and dragged him across the nightclub floor, towards the stairwell.

Emma follows Jones silently up the stairs. The rain is pounding furiously against the roof and a clap of thunder rattles the building, Emma is grateful she won’t be able to hear Felix screaming. He might be a lecherous pedophile but even he didn’t deserve what Pan was capable of dishing out.

Emma takes a seat on the edge of the bed while Jones makes his way to the bar and pours out two glasses of rum.

Killian is rattled, he’s broken two of his rules, in a moment of weakness he let himself come inside Swan, and he’d do it again. He joins Swan on the bed and hands her a glass of rum, they clink the glasses before each downing the amber liquid, Killian relishes the burn. After staring at her for what felt like ages Killian asks, “What is your real name?”

The question comes out soft, almost a whisper. They maintain eye contact and Emma sees no ulterior motive.

“Emma” she whispers back, not giving anything else away.

“Emma” Killian repeats, bringing his hand up, he cups her check and pulls them together.

When it finally comes it feels like Emma has waited her whole life for this moment, for this kiss.

It is a soft and tender press of lips against lips that leaves Emma more breathless than Jones’ rough thrusts. He absently rubs the spot above her ear with his thumb and she tingles with pleasure. The kiss deepens; the empty glasses get left on the floor. They slowly and passionately undress each other, making their way further up the bed.

Emma lies naked in the middle of the bed as Jones straddles her, slowly he leans forward, pressing his length into her wet heat, their hips meets, their lips meet, and the room goes black.

“Oh Emma” Killian growls, and then they make love in the dark.


	10. Sins of the Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the crest, after this things are going to start wrapping up. It's finally reached the place I think (or hope) a lot of you thought it was going but I still intend to pull out what I hope (think) will be surprises. My goal for this was always somewhere between 12-14 chapters it will happen, I'm almost there! I basically have the ending written, just need the in between parts. 
> 
> It was never my desire to abandon this story and just because I don't update quickly doesn't mean I'm not working on it. This story will not be abandoned. 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support and lovely comments. :) level

Emma’s phone goes off with an alarming ring, startling her awake. She fumbles in the darkness for the offending item silencing it with a swipe of her finger. Emma rolls over and presses herself against the body next to her. It is warm yet cold, both hard and malleable; in her dream it was the body of Killian Jones naked and pressed desperately against her in the aftermath of the blackout. She smiles at the thought and inhales deeply.

“Morning Swan” says a rough voice in a cheeky tone.

Emma freezes; her dream wasn’t a dream at all, instead it’s her fantasy become reality. Before she has time to think up a plausible list of excuses her phone goes off again. A quick glance tells her its work calling. The ring is making it hard for Emma to concentrate.

“Aren’t you going to answer that, love?” Killian asks Emma as the phone rings out for the fourth time.

Jumping up onto her knees, she answers it just before voicemail picks up. The last thing she wants is work to think she’s in some sort of trouble and try to rescue her putting their months of hard work to the wayside.

“Hello” she says tentatively, and is pleased when it’s Mary Margret who replies.

“Emma, thank goodness you’re safe” Mary Margret sounds so relieved it makes Emma wonders how long they’ve been trying to get a hold of her for. Taking a quick glance around Emma realises there is no clock anywhere in Jones’ room which she finds odd.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Emma shouts back into the phone, no doubt startling Agent Blanchard, and trying to put on a convincing show for Jones.

“Nearly noon, why? Oh, you’re not alone are you?” she asks back quickly catching on to Emma’s meaning.

“Damn straight I don’t appreciate you calling and waking me up. I was at work _all_ night.” Emma chances a quick look at Jones to see if he’s buying it. He doesn’t seem to be picking up on her double meaning answers but does smirk when she mentions working all night.

“Oh my god” says the woman on the other end, “You’re still there aren’t you?” Mary Margret sounds panicked.

“Of course I am angry!” Emma shouts back, “and don’t ever call this number again!” She hangs up on the call then shoots off a quick text telling Mary Margret she’ll be at work within the hour. Emma chucks her phone back on the night stand but her false anger quickly dissipates.

In a moment of weakness she longs to snuggle back into bed with Jones, his hair is pleasantly ruffled and his blue eyes shine a bit brighter now that they are not foggy with alcohol.

“That was quite the lashing Swan, hope they deserved it.” Jones says he smiles at her in a way that seems too easy.

She gives her own smile in response, hooding her eyes. She realises they are both still very naked and her breasts are on full display.

“What about me, Captain, do _I_ deserve a lashing?” she asks putting on her best seductive voice.

Killian’s only response is to growl, low and deep, and primal. The way Emma had curled herself around him earlier had stirred his cock. It didn’t matter how many times they had sex the night before (three times) Killian knew he would repeatedly fuck this beautiful creature, especially when she willingly said such naughty things to him so early in the day.

“It would be my pleasure, Swan” he said reverting back to her club name. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her real name, on the contrary he loved it, every syllable angelic but it was a dangerous game. The people he cared about the most always got hurt, Liam, Mia, even Red would suffer, and he did not wish the same fate for Emma.

Emma knew she didn’t have time for one more round of blissful mind-blowing sex but that didn’t stop her body from shivering in pleasure at the prospect. Her nipples were alert having been exposed to the chilly air and she saw Jones eye them hungrily. They were both saved by a knock on the door.

Emma heaved a silent sigh of relief as Jones turned murderous eyes on the door. Heaven help whoever was on the other side. Jones pulled Emma back down to the bed and under the covers as he called out.

“Come in”

Emma inhaled sharply as Ruby Lucas came in looking worse for wear. Her left eye was bruised and swollen; there was a deep cut through her bottom lip. She was wearing a denim mini-skirt and red halter top, her black fishnet stockings were cut on one side and she only had one shoe on.

She entered slowly, as though she were limping, her eyes downcast. Red kept licking the cut on her lip which continued to sprout fresh blood. In her hands she carried a silver tray piled with scrambled eggs, crispy bacon strips, and buttered toast.

“I brought your breakfast, Captain” Red said, not making eye contact with anything except the floor. Her lone red converse sneaker seemed really interesting.

“Red” Killian breathed, never would he have imagined Pan would do this to one of his girls without permission, without being present.

“What happened?” he asked genuine concern in his voice.

Red mumbled something neither Emma nor Killian could hear so he asked again.

“A client” Red said shaking her head, trying to kill the subject.

“No client did that to you, not in my club” Jones said jumping out of bed rage tinting his voice, he was furious that not only would Pan do this but then force Red to lie about it.

Ruby wouldn’t make eye contact with him and Killian knew the truth. He slipped his hand gently under her stubborn chin and lifted it so he could see into her eyes.

“Pan did this, didn’t he.” It wasn’t a question, Killian rubbed his thumb over the bloody cut and Ruby winced at the touch.

“It’s nothing” Red said jerking her head and removing her hand from Killian’s touch.

“I’m nothing” she said, looking at the ground again. “This is what I’m here for, this is my job.” She was crying now Emma heard Ruby gulping, trying to get her breathing back under control.

“I know you don’t care but” Red stopped talking as she became completely overwhelmed the tears coming thick and fast as she dropped the silver tray to the floor scattering breakfast everywhere.

She folded in on herself clearly preparing for a beating or at the very least verbal abuse.

“That’s not true” Killian said in hushed tones, gently touching Red on her exposed shoulder making her convulse.

“Of course it is” she said shakily, “you don’t need us, we’re easily replaceable.”

This wasn’t the strong minded and independent woman Emma had come to see in Red Pan really must have done a number on her to inflict such psychological damage.

“Wrong on all counts” Jones refuted quietly, “It is me who is nothing without you.”

Red looked up at him in quiet shock.

“Am I right, Swan?” Jones asked turning to where Emma still sat huddle in the covers. He waved her over and Emma obeyed.

“That’s right” she agreed bringing the blanket with her and wrapping it around Red. Jones supplied Emma with his bathrobe.

“Without beautiful, kind, and elegant dancers I wouldn’t have a club” Jones continued. “This isn’t what I want for you or anyone” he shook his head, deeply disturbed.

“Swan, when you leave could you kindly drive Miss Lucas to wherever she wishes.” Jones asked. He gently stroked Red’s hair as she eyed him in amazement.

“Yes Captain” Emma agreed.

***~~~***

Emma had showered and dressed quickly having nothing to wear but her work clothes from the day before which were thankfully dry. She dropped Red off at a family run diner where she worked during the day and discovered some interesting things along the way.

Red had broken down several times on the short ride about how gracious Jones was being, how she didn’t deserve it. Finally Emma had outright asked her why she continuously put herself down. After more protest Ruby had finally caved and explained to her that she’d actually been hired by Pan to be ‘found’ by Jones.

“It was a bad time for me. I was out of work, in need of drugs. My whole ‘run away from home and become famous’ fantasy hadn’t worked out.” She explained. “Mr. Pan had been the friend of a client who liked to watch. One night Pan came to me alone, told me about a club he was running and thought I’d be a real main attraction.” Red’s voice lightened at the memory, it must have made her feel great to be singled out like that.

“He told me about Jones, how he’d recently lost his wife and wasn’t doing that great at business anymore. Pan said I kind of looked like this guy’s dead wife and if I walked along a certain street at a specific time on an agreed upon night he would make sure Jones would find me. All I had to do was put this guy back in a good mood and I’d be well paid for it he said.” Red shrugged as if to say _what would you have done?_ And for that Emma didn’t have an answer.

Emma arrived at work just barely within the hour limit she had given herself. Her hair had been thrown up in a quick French braid and she was wearing yesterday’s clothes. Coffee cup in hand Emma felt ready to face whatever the rest of the day could throw at her, she could not have been more wrong.

Mary Margret was waiting for her at the door, file folder in hand, pacing back and forth.

“What’s up?” Emma asked, hoping to get right to business and avoid the awkward conversation about the earlier phone call.

“We found Mia’s brother” Mary Margret divulged hesitantly, as the two women marched toward the elevators.

It wasn’t the bomb Emma was expecting but it made things easier.

“Excellent, bring him in” she said, a good start to the day.

“Actually” Agent Blanchard hesitated and Emma sensed bad news was coming her mind flooded with all the possible scenarios, the brother was dead, or uncooperative, or on business in another country and wouldn’t be back till next week.

“He’s here, upstairs in fact” She finished. They stepped as one into the elevator and the doors slid closed behind them. Mary Margret presses the 3 button and it starts the ascent.

Emma was floored, that wasn’t bad news at all, “great, what’s he saying? Is he talking? Who’s interviewing him?” She took a grateful sip of her coffee, savouring the rich texture before swallowing.

“Well he’s refusing to speak to anyone but you.” Mary Margret explained.

“What?” Emma said in disbelief, “does he know me or something?”

“You’re never going to believe this” Blanchard said shaking her head, like she didn’t believe it herself.

The elevator dinged as the door opened and the ladies made their way down the hall to an unmarked integration room. The bad feeling returned to Emma’s stomach as she tried to keep her coffee down.

Mary Margret opened her file folder and read, “Neal Cassidy, thirty-two years old has a juvenile criminal record mostly for minor offenses, breaking and entering, aiding and abetting, petty theft, and of course the two cases when he ran away from home. In early adulthood he moved up to boosting cars. He also has several aliases,” here Mary Margret paused for a moment and looked pleadingly at Emma.

Emma motioned with her hand for Mary Margret to continue and she did so reluctantly.

“Full Name: Neal Robert Henry Cassidy Gold, aka Neal Gold, aka Henry Gold, aka, Robert Cassidy, aka Henry Baelfire” Mary Margret trails off sheepishly as Emma chokes on her tea.

“What did you just say?” Emma blurts out.

Emma of course had confided in Mary Margret about the terrible incident that had happened to her that night she sat waiting for David and the awful aftermath of Henry blaming her and walking out taking her heart and respect with him. She could happily have lived her whole life without hearing his name, or seeing his face again.

Emma was torn she had half a mind to turn tail, stalk back out of the building and not come back until she was sure he was gone. The other half of her wanted to march into the interrogation room and shout abuse at the man who had left her broken hearted when she was most vulnerable, before defiantly turning and walking out of the room. Neither of those options would give them answers. If Henry, or Neal, or whoever he was today refused to talk to anyone but Emma he must have some information to give up.

At last she made up her mind Emma stalked into the observation room where agents Mills, Hatt, and Hood were standing. Inside the interrogation room was agents Nolan and Walsh, and there he was, Henry Baelfire. Emma exhaled upon seeing him, some part of her willing to believe it was a different Henry Baelfire. He sat there silent as ever, he had a bit of a beard growing in and it made him look older. Walsh was leaning back against the mirrored wall while David sat across from Henry. Emma knew if David had known this was the man that had hurt her so many years before he would not come out of that room in one piece.

“Do you know this man Agent Swann?” Mills asked, clearly displeased, “he’s been asking for you.”

Emma thought about lying, saying she didn’t know him, but would it be a lie? Clearly she hadn’t known this man at all. In their eight years together he had never mentioned his family, she knew of course about the petty theft, and stealing cars. Her own yellow punch buggy and been her first attempt at jacking a car only to find out it had already been stolen, the thief still asleep in the back. The man had four known aliases and was clearly good at picking up everything and moving on. This guy was clearly sticking to his terms refusing to breathe a word unless Emma was present.

“He is someone I thought knew” Emma supplied cryptically.

“Will you talk to him, for the sake of the case?” Robin asked gently. He was good at reading people and Emma figured he could see her reluctance, the haze of old memories flooding her eyes.

Emma nodded in the affirmative and Regina knocked on the window, startling Walsh. In a moment Walsh and Nolan disappeared from the room and reappeared on the observation side.

“Emma, are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to you know” David burst in the door already talking a mile a minute. “The guy seems like a total creep, how did he even know to ask for you?”

Emma could give no answer to David that would not make him think of her ex but she was saved from making up a story when Mills covered for her.

“Stand down Agent Nolan, Agent Swann has agreed to interview Mr. Cassidy. She knows the risks. We’ll be right here watching if you need us.” Mills nodded at Emma and she returned it. The two women had an understanding.

“Nolan, Walsh” Mills said briskly, “perhaps you can go work on the preparations with Hood’s team for the big night. You too Hatt” Mills added as an afterthought.

The boys didn’t need to be told twice. Director Regina Mills rarely had to raise her voice at the agents under her command they simply did as she asked. It was her stern tone and steel glare that sealed the deal. After all she hadn’t risen to her position of power without a little tough love.

Emma was grateful she wouldn’t have too big of an audience for the shit that was about to go down. She took a deep breath before entering the room. She vowed not to look directly at him but that was made difficult when he looked up and saw it was her.

“Emma” he said, his voice soft and full of mild surprise, and a smile blossomed across his lips. He said her name the way all girls wanted lovers to say their names. It made you feel special and loved when someone said your name that way. It wasn’t unlike the way Jones had said her name the night before, full of reverence. For a moment she could feel the old familiar warmth spreading through her then she remembered where they were, why she was here, and that he was a fucking asshole.

Emma steeped into the room; head held high and let the heavy steel door slam closed behind her. She did not make eye contact with Henry.

“Good afternoon Mr. Cassidy” she said, very cold and formal. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him flinch as if he’d been stricken. He really couldn’t have expected her to play nice though, could he? They weren’t going to sit down over coffees and catch up on the last six years. He volunteered to come to the FBI and talk to her, about the murder of his sister, she hoped.

“Please, don’t be-” he started but Emma was quick to cut him off.

“I was informed you asked for me specifically” Emma continued to stare at the grey wall as she gave her speech. “What information do you have that could not be relayed through another agent?”

Emma about faced and began to pace back toward the door, still not looking at Henry remaining distant emotionally and physically.  

Emma heard him sigh in defeat, “I’m here to present evidence in the case of the murder of Mia Jones” he said resigned.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat.

“Your evidence?” she asked, still not looking his way, praying her voice remained neutral.  

Neal withdrew from his jacket pocket a piece of paper, and laid it on the table.

Emma glanced at it. It was a picture of a wicked looking knife jagged but highly polished as though it had been taken good care of. The dagger had strange symbols on it that Emma couldn’t decipher from the image.

Emma could feel the eyes of those in the observation room on her, marking her every move.

“It was my fathers” Neal supplied, “it was stolen from him a few weeks before I ran away from home, the last time. Some months ago I went to my mail box and found a package there. I hadn’t ordered anything and was expecting no such parcel.” Here he took a deep breath.

“There was a note with it, telling me to keep it safe. I recognized the writing as belonging to my Uncle.” He finished.

The image of the knife burned its way into Emma’s mind. “Mr. Cassidy, are you accusing your Uncle of murder?” Emma asked after a minute. She turned and looked back at the opposite wall.

“Malcolm Gold” Neal said tightly, as if he had no love for the man.

Emma made a note on her paper to check the name. “What reason do you have to suspect your Uncle that is a serious accusation?” Emma asked staring a hole into her clip board.

“He and my father had a falling out” Neal answered flatly.

Could Mia Jones have died all because of a family feud? Emma wondered. Did it really have nothing to do with Pan and the club? She had been staring at her paper too long.

“Emma look at me!” Neal finally exploded, tired of being ignored.

Emma dropped the clip board and slammed her fists against the desk, “Why should I” she shouted at him, right in his face, “You walked out on me when I needed you most!”

“I had just found out my sister had been murdered!” he shouted back, sliding his chair back against the far wall he stood up, stopping Emma short.

“What?” she whispered back in disbelief. “You never even told me about your family, were you still in contact with her?”

“We had run in to each other not a week before at the little bakery around the corner.” He heaved a sigh and sat back down.

“She was with her husband. We decided to re-connect, traded cell numbers” he explained.

“I was going to invite them over that weekend. He seemed nice; I don’t even remember his name now. Anyway when I went to call” Neal choked.

Emma could see the tears starting to form in his eyes and his voice began to crack on certain words.

“When he answered” the tears began rolling down his cheeks. Emma knew he wasn’t faking the man she had known was a bad liar, wearing his emotions on his sleeve. “When he told me what happened” Neal gulped and covered his face with his hands.

“I went back” he said suddenly, jarring Emma, “A few days after I walked out, I went back to the apartment, to apologize, explain my actions. But you had already moved out. Would you have forgiven me?” he asked looking up her now, pleadingly.

Emma didn’t know what to say and was saved from answering with a sudden distraction.

“Emma” Belle exclaimed, bursting through the door then noticing Neal, “oh, I’ll come back later” she tried to excuse herself but Emma noticed the paperwork in her hands. It was the DNA test results.

“Wait, come on in please tell us what you have.” Emma beckoned Belle and she came in reluctantly. She wasn’t used to the cold atmosphere of an interrogation room. Belle preferred her soft office chair, surrounded by books, and losing hours to internet research.

“I ran a search for the DNA sample you gave to Jefferson” Belle began, glancing nervously at Neal.

“And?” Emma prompted, nodding her head to show it was okay to deliver this information with him present.

“It wasn’t a match for anyone in the system” she said, and Emma began to hang her head. She was so sure Pan must have had a record.

“However” Belle continued and Emma perked up, “the DNA did pop for two unsolved crimes.”

Emma was now all ears looking like a child for whom Christmas had come early.

“It matches DNA found at the scene of the murder of Mia Jones” Belle managed to get out before Emma jumped up and down pumping her fist gleefully.

This was it they had him! Pan had indeed murdered Mia. It fit perfectly, he had both means and motive. Pan saw Mia as an unwelcome distraction to Jones, who while young and fit was no good as a procurer refusing to sleep with the women he had to hire.

Then a though occurred to Emma. Neal had been so sure the killer was his Uncle Malcolm. What if Pan and Malcolm were one and the same? Emma recalled the way Pan had looked last night, well dressed and put together, she remembered that nagging feeling about him looking familiar. Of course, he looked like Robert Gold! Emma could compare the jagged knife to Mia’s stab wounds to be sure and if that was a match she’d bet anything it was a match for Killian’s and Felix’s scars too.

Belle was almost out the door when Emma remembered something else she had said that struck a nerve.

“Wait, Belle” she called after her friend, “what was the other case?”

Belle stopped in her tracks, she really didn’t want to do this, not in front of everyone.

Belle turned slowly on the spot, and looked Emma straight in the eye, there was nothing she could do to make it any easier for her, “Yours.”


	11. Mistreated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise another chapter! This one's a bit short but felt it was right. Enjoy!

Killian lay awake late into the night listening to the rain beating against the roof of the club, a beautiful woman, Emma wrapped protectively in his arms. He had begun to fear he went too far earlier with her punishment, that at last he had brought her to her breaking point. He was tired of being told he had to rule with fear, he didn't want the girls to be afraid of him. Emma was different, she was strong and he had the feeling she only obeyed him because she chose to. He had seen the way she struggled against the bonds in the shower, she could have freed herself but she hadn't. She could have used her safe word, but she didn't.

Emma sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to him for warmth. Their cocoon under the sheets was quite cozy but the air in the room would be frigid with the power out. Killian had never imagined after losing Mia that he would feel this way again but he could suddenly see building a life with Emma. It was with that final thought he drifted off to sleep, arms holding onto what he hoped would be the second love of his life.

The morning had started off rough first with the phone calls and then the state of Red and what Pan had done to her. Today was Saturday though, at long last and the sister's Frost would be making their debut tonight. He was wearing a suit of midnight blue that had tiny gold flecks in it making him look like he was wearing the night sky itself. He was barefoot as he stomped around the upstairs. It was almost nine o'clock where the hell was Sawn?

"Has anyone seen Swan?" he asked barging into the bathroom, startling Tinker, Dawn, and Ariel.

All three girls shook their heads no and he was gone again, off down the hall. He stopped dead when Felix Nightshade exited a room ahead of him.

"Shit mate" Killian swore, if he thought Red had looked bad he was surprised Felix was even up and about. The scar on his cheek had been recut open, one of his eyes was completely swollen shut, and there was a large hand-shaped bruise on his throat, the gaudy fairy dust necklace hanging in its proper place once again.

Felix had stopped too when Killian spotted him and the two now had an awkward standoff going on in the hallway.

"I'm fine" Felix lied as Killian said "take the night off."

"The _fuck_ you're fine" Killian shot back, "you can't go on the floor looking like that."

"I have to" Felix whimpered.

"No, I gave Red the night off, you should go home, put some ice on that" Killian pointed awkwardly at the bruise that seemed to be worsening before his very eyes.

"He'll know if I leave." Felix pleaded, "He has eyes everywhere."

It was disgusting Killian thought that Pan would abuse his subs in this manner. Killian knew he was a little rough around the edges and might not always make his intentions clear but never; never would he cut them or inflict physical damage to that extent. Relationships like that were meant to be based around a mutual respect it was a game of give and take. You mess up you get punished you do something noteworthy and receive a reward. Last night he had both punished and rewarded Emma because he knew he couldn't stay mad at her. She was easy to love.

Killian knew there was no talking sense into Felix he had been under Pan's thumb for too long. Frustrated he stormed back into his own room and was surprised to see a fully dressed Swan ready to go and helping the Frost sisters put their finishing touches on.

"Swan" he began to admonish, but stopped short when he saw her face. She looked a little pale and he wondered if maybe she shouldn't be working tonight either.

"Are you alright?" he asked instead softening his voice.

"I'm fine" she said smiling, and he almost believed her, she was a better liar than Felix to be sure. "Let's get these ladies on the floor" she said.

She kissed each of the girls on both of their cheeks and wished them a hearty good luck.

"I'll see you on the floor, Captain." She flashed him another brilliant smile as the sisters each took one of his arms and led him out the door. Too bad his mind was still back in the room with Swan.

Emma's whole world was shattered with that one word.

"Yours."

She remembers trying to be nonchalant, just brush it off and remain professional in front of Henry. He's calling her name but it sounds like it's coming from far away. Her head hurts, suddenly her vision goes blurry and then everything is quiet and black.

The bright lights are blinding as Emma tentatively opens her eyes. She has to shield them from the brilliant glare of the hospital lighting. Emma takes inventory; she must be in the FBI hospital wing. The uncomfortable bed she's lying on confirms this, as does the uneaten green Jell-O on the kitchen cart beside her bed. One of the hideous privacy curtains is pulled around her bed, blocking her from view of other patients but Agent's Mills and Hood sit in the uncomfortable chairs beside her. Both are sound asleep heads resting against each other's for support. Emma quirks a smile, at least they are already in different units. Their relationship has a chance whereas Mary Margret and David's do not.

Emma makes a light clearing her throat noise and the snoozing couple stir.

"Agent Swann, you're awake" Mills said, not unkind, just a little stunned. "You fainted my dear" she explained, "It was lucky Mr. Cassidy moved so quickly. He was able to catch you before you hit your head on the floor."

"Would you like for me to get Dr. Whale?" Robin asked tactfully, not waiting around for Emma to answer.

"Here you must be parched" Regina said handing Emma a cup of what turned out to be apple juice.

Emma drank it down greedily.

"That must have been quite a shock to your system. I've seen you enter numerous crime scenes Miss Swann, you don't faint." Her voice was doing that stern love thing again but Emma wasn't in the mood.

"So" she said with a twisted smile, "Mr. Cassidy is your no-good ex?"

Mills let loose a mirthless laugh as Emma's eyes swiveled around the room in search of the deviant.

"He's not here Miss Swann. Agent Nolan took him back to his apartment to produce what he believes to be the murder weapon in his sister's case. But DNA proves Pan is responsible. What's your take on all this?" Mills folded her hands politely on her lap smug defiance in every gesture. She didn't suspect what Emma had already figured out.

"Same" she said in a horse whisper, "they're the same person."

Mills arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "your proof?" she asked. It wasn't that she didn't believe Emma, she was just testing her. "Can your ex be trusted? Maybe he is here on Pan's orders trying to throw us off his trail." They were all fair assumptions.

"I met Pan, last night he moves like Gold, like Robert Gold they even look a little alike." Emma managed to get out before needing to take another swig of juice. She was saved from further interrogation by Mills when Robin returned with Dr. Whale and Dr. Hopper in tow.

The two had apparently been in the middle of discussing Emma when Robin had brought them the good news.

"Emma, how are you feeling?" Dr. Hopper jumped right in, "do you want to talk about it?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Dr. Whale asked holding up his three middle fingers on his left hand, "Do you still feel dizzy?"

"I'm fine, no, three, and no" she answered giving a weak smile which quickly turned to confusion. "What time is it?" she asked making to get up but the good doctors were quick to hold her back.

Regina glanced at her watch, "almost eight, why do you have somewhere to be Agent?" she asked sarcastically, as if she didn't know.

"The club, I have to be-" Emma was fighting to get up, "the Frost sister's need me there, Jones needs me there."

"Who are the Frost sisters?" Regina asked confused, Emma hadn't had time to fill in her boss on all the gory details of the last few days.

Emma described the sisters, explained how they mysteriously appeared at the club, and told her where she suspected they had come from.

"Have you not read the paper Miss Swann?" Regina asked, again not unkind just tersely.

Emma shook her head, which hurt so she stopped.

"You just described the missing daughters of an export company mogul from Sweden. They went missing around the time you started working undercover." Mills explained.

That was news to Emma and her eyes widen in genuine shock.

"All the more reason for me to be there" she said attempting to jump up again to find her way still blocked. "Please I have to go" she begged.

"Can't you see what's happening? Pan is stealing the children of wealthy and important people to twist their arms into helping him. A doctor and export company owners, I think he's shipping people." Emma explained frustrated.

"Are you sure she didn't hit her head?" Dr. Hopper asked.

"I overheard Nightshade telling Jones about the next 'shipment' it sounded rather suspicious" Emma tried again. "I have to be at that club tonight, otherwise Jones will suspect something's up. Mary Margret's phone call this morning was a close call." Emma only realized she'd said too much after she said it. She quickly covered her mouth but the damage was done.

"What happened this morning?" Mills asked her jaw clenched tightly, "Agent Blanchard told us you'd had a late night and forgot to set your alarm."

Mary Margret had covered for her and Emma had gone and blown it.

"Well that is all true" Emma conceded, "but I wasn't at home, I was still at the club, with Jones." She confessed.

"You spent the night at the club?" Mills was furious Emma had finally gotten her to reach boiling point.

"Regina, honey" Robin placated, gently touching Mills on her shoulder, but she shirked him off.

"Fine" she huffed at Emma, "do what you want, but don't blame me if your cover gets blown." With that she stormed out of the room Robin trailing after her trying to do damage control.

"She's right you know" Dr. Whale said after a moment of silence, "you shouldn't be going anywhere. I'll go write up a prescription for you but then I want you to go right home."

With that Dr. Whale walked away leaving Emma alone with Dr. Hopper who was avoiding looking at her in his awkward way.

"Archie" she pleaded, "you know I have to go, those girls they need me."

"I know" he conceded, "that's why I'm going to help you." he gave her a shy smile, like he knew he was being bad and didn't care. She liked this rebellious side of Dr. Hopper.

"I'm leaving now" he shouted as he and Emma quickly changed places and Emma closed the door behind her. She really wished she could have been there to see the look on Dr. Whale's face when he pulled back the Curtin and saw Dr. Hopper lying in the bed.

She was still a little weak and not really in a state to drive so it was a blessing when the elevator arrived Mary Margret was already inside.

"Emma" she gasped in surprise.

"Shh" Emma said placing a finger to her lips, "I need you to get me out of here," she whispered, drive me to the club."

"OK, sure" Mary Margret nodded enthusiastically and Emma got in the elevator.

The ride to the club was mostly in silence. The radio in Mary Margret's car was broken and neither of the girls felt much like talking. Just as Mary Margret pulled up behind the club Emma spoke.

"I know" she said.

"Know what?" Mary Margret asked confused.

"About you and David" Emma confronted.

"What do you mean?" the other woman was a bad liar.

"I'm happy for you" Emma admitted, "just don't be stupid about it. Thanks for the ride, see ya Monday."

"Text me when you get home" Mary Margret asked with a nod of consent Emma was out the door and disappeared into the club. It was almost nine o'clock; she was really pushing her luck.

Everyone loved the sister's double act a slow and seductive routine to Deep Purple's _Mistreated_. Emma felt like a proud mother watching the girls perform every twirl and hip pop just as they had rehearsed. Jones' seemed pleased too with the crowd's general approval. Of course Emma suspected he didn't know who they really were, only that they were important to Pan. It strengthened Emma's resolve; she couldn't wait to bring down the whole operation.

That night Killian was again gentle with her, like he used to be with Mia before working the club had turned him hard to the world. She had lazily run her finger along his scar and he didn't even flinch or tell her not to. He told her about how he used to go sailing with his brother and still owned their father's boat.

"You have a boat?" she asked all excited.

"Yes, and if you're a good little Swan I might take you on it some time." He had playfully teased. No one from the club knew about the boat, not any of the girls, not even Pan. It was his escape plan. Once he was sure the girls here were in good hands he'd set sail, or that was his plan until he'd realised he was falling for Swan. Maybe, just maybe he'd take her with him. He shook the thought from his mind, what a ridiculous idea.

He drifted off to sleep once again with Swan in his arms and dreams of sail in his head.


	12. Something Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow, it's been over a year since I've updated and you guys have been incredibly supportive. I am still not happy with this chapter but maybe I never will be. I know it will seem like there are a lot of holes and unanswered questions but they will all be filled in the last chapter.   
> Happy Canadian Thanksgiving, this is my gift to you!

Halloween night arrived at long last but instead of feeling relieved or even nervous Emma was only worried about Jones finding out who she really was. Even if they didn’t lay charges against him, he would still be arrested, he would know she had lied to him, know she was an FBI agent. Their whole relationship had been built upon lie after lie. He would never want to speak to her ever again, she would never have the chance to explain herself, never get to say-, Emma shook her head out of the daze, everyone was waiting for her this was her rodeo now. 

Emma took one last glance at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, before exiting and marching her way down the hall. Head held high and brimming with confidence Emma entered the board room and made her way straight to the front. She turned and faced her waiting audience; everyone from Mills’ and Hood’s squad was sat at the long meeting table, including Mills herself. Behind Emma was a whiteboard with the layout of the club drawn on it in red marker and blue X’s marked important junctures. 

“Our bachelors will arrive at the club at precisely 9:30 pm” Emma began. The “bachelors” were a group of male agents going in undercover and consisted of David Nolan, Robin Hood, Oswald Walsh, Will Scarlet, and Alan Dale.

“Your room is all booked” Emma continued pointing to the room drawn out on the board. “Lynn and Darling are scheduled to be your attendants, as soon as they come into the room it’s your job to let them know you are there to help them and that they will be making it out of this situation _alive_.” Emma stressed that last bit.

All the men nodded their heads in understating, so Emma kept going, her confidence growing every second. “It’s my job to distract Jones while you guys sweep the rest of the club, I should have him off the floor by eleven sharp. That’s when Jefferson will come and get you from the private room.”

Nods all around again, this was a good sign. Everyone was supporting her in this. 

Emma went to speak again when there was a soft knock and someone else entered the room. The whole ensemble turned as one to stare at the unwelcomed intruder.

“Mr. Cassidy” said Mills sharply, standing up to her full height, “I don’t believe you were invited to this meeting.”

Emma took a deep breathe, “Actually, he was.” 

Everyone turned their attention back to her. Some faces had looks of surprise, some anger, David actually clenched his fist.

“Once our boys revel who they are and why they’re there the club will descend into chaos. I want every person working there to make it out safely.” Emma said forcefully. “Mr. Cassidy will be there to personally escort the Frost sisters to where Director Mills will be waiting in the electrical van across the street.”

A few gasps filled the room. Emma could see her audience was preparing to dispute her decision when Neal saved her.

“Emma asked for my help and I’m here to atone for my past mistakes” he said simply. This appeased a few, David still looked murderous. 

“I trust Agent Swann’s judgment” Regina suddenly declared and that seemed to settle the matter. 

Neal stood awkwardly at the door for a few minutes before Agent Nolan pulled out the empty chair beside him and said “Why don’t you take a seat, _Neal_.” His tone was mock polite but Neal came forward and took his seat.

Emma continued her meeting.

On the drive over to the club for the final time Emma remembers her last night spent there laying there wide awake long after Jones had drifted off to sleep. He had confided some of his deepest secrets to her and she could give him nothing in return. She longed to be honest with him, thoughts of finding him after the sting operation and explaining everything crossed her mind. Maybe he would give her a chance and they could share a life together. She was being ridiculous though, he wouldn’t want to talk to her, let alone look at her after the case was finished. As far as he would be concerned she was one of the bad guys. It would be her fault the club’s reputation and possibly existence would be ruined. She would cost him his money, status, and job. There would be no coming back from that.  

The following night had seen her and Elsa preform a double act to Carrie Underwood and Miranda Lambert’s _Something Bad_. That had received a generous round of applause. 

Emma had seen it as a kind of foreshadowing of events to come.  

Tonight all the girls were wearing outfits based on costumes. Red was back and sporting a very provocative take on little red riding hood, likewise Ella’s dress put the _sin_ in Cinderella. Emma is excited to see that for her there has been selected a ye-olde serving wench style costume done in cream, brown and gold.    

Emma hears the soft click of the door closing behind her and turns around to see Killian Jones standing there in full pirate garb, complete with leather breeches and a long leather jacket Jack Sparrow would be envious of. His shirt front is open and his crocodile tooth charm hangs front and center. He looks irresistible and knowing she won’t be able to sleep with him tonight is going to kill her. 

“Swan” he exhales, looking her up and down in an appraising manner.    

There is something else in that look too though, something that makes Emma’s knees weak. He wasn’t just admiring the fit of the costume, how the skirt clenched at her waist, or how the corset accentuated her breasts. His eyes stalled on her face and she saw them darken, not solely with lust.

Emma’s breath hitched as she stared back at him. Slowly Killian walked towards her, hand out stretched. Gently he cradled her cheek and she tilted her head into it. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes into his, he was looking down at her, his blue eyes reflecting nothing but unabashed love. Briefly his tongue wet his lips and then they were on hers. 

Killian’s kiss was a short firm press of lips against lips before he pulled back. Emma made to follow him but stopped herself. She didn’t have to wait long though before his lips returned in earnest. He walked her backwards toward the bed, his hand sliding under her bustled skirt and up her stocking covered thigh. Killian moaned into her mouth when his hips jolted into hers. Emma moaned back, pushed back with her hips. This could be their last time together and he didn’t even know.

“Killian,” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

Killian mouthed at her ear, his hot breath tickling her, “I love you.” 

Emma stilled in his arms, had he really just said that? Did he mean it?

Killian was looking at her in shock as if he didn’t believe it himself, but he knew it was true, had felt this way about her for a few days now. 

A quick rapt on his door had them both glaring daggers at the wood, but it didn’t open.

“It’s almost time sir” Mr. Smee’s voice came from the other side and then they heard his footsteps retreating. 

Killian turned to go but Emma was fast and she grabbed onto his coat sleeve, “wait,” she called out.

For a moment Killian didn’t move, then, ever so slowly he looked back at her. The look on his face pained her. It had taken him a lot to make that one small confession, a confession she believed he hadn’t meant to make, at least not like this.

Emma’s own confession was on the tip of her tongue, _I work for the FBI, I was sent here to spy on you,_ “I love you too, Captain” she said, a small smile played on her lips.

Killian let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Shall we?” He says, returning her smile and extending his arm.

She takes it and together they exit his room for the last time.

~~~~***~~~~

 

Oh hell he looked wrecked, his hair sticking up having been mauled by her hands, his lips red and swollen from where they had kissed hers, his eyes still dilated. Well he was looking at her after all. His hands were cuffed behind his back and he struggled against David’s hold on him. She was standing a few paces in front of him his long leather coat wrapped protectively around her.   

“Did you mean it?” he shouted at her, “did you mean what you said, or was it all a lie.” He was angry, and she didn’t blame him, but there was no way she could tell him the truth, and lying now would be even worse.  

They had been basking in the afterglow of the best sex of their lives, Emma had really put her heart into it, when David had bust down the door and ruined the moment. She had been more than a little embarrassed, even knowing this was how it had to end. Impulsively she had grabbed for something to cover her and had come up with Killian's pirate costume coat. 

She shivered and pulled the coat around her even tighter, the scent of his cologne heavy in her nostrils. Emma took a deep breath and moved close to him, for a moment she held his gaze then turned her head and whispered in his ear “crossbones.”

She felt him freeze beside her. She put every emotion she was feeling into that one word. Maybe it was too late to be backing out now but that was her choice, he was the one who gave her the safe word. She turned and without looking back at him began to walk away.

“Swan” he called after her, “Swan” she could hear the hurt and betrayal in his voice and she had to wipe away a few tears as she kept walking ignoring his cries until David had him safely locked in the car.

Two Weeks Later

“Is that all of them?” David asked her as Emma handed in her various passports and fake ID’s.

“Yup” she said straight faced. 

“I’ll miss you Swann” he said giving her a weak smile.

“I’ll miss you too David” without warning he leaned down and pulled her into an aggressive bear hug.

Emma was about to comment on how afraid she was David might actually break her spine when the sound of someone running in heels came down the hallway and Mary Margret rushed into the room.

“Guy’s breaking news” she said in her most serious voice, “you’ve got to come see this.” 

The panic in her voice put Emma on high alert, what had happened? Was it a terrorist attack?

Entering the office Emma noticed they had the local news station on and was relieved to see it was nothing as serious as she had feared.

“There was a break-out late last night at the Happily Ever After Correctional Facility” Sydney Glass was reporting.  “Only one man escaped, 33 year old Killian Jones who was arrested only two weeks ago during an FBI raid on the strip club _Neverland_. Jones is 5’9” Caucasian with short black hair and blue eyes. If anyone sees him they are advised to call the FBI at this number or 911 immediately. He may be armed and dangerous. The public are advised not to approach this man.”

Mary Margret’s direct line was the number flashing on the TV screen next to Jones’ mugshot from the night of the arrest. In it he looked wild yet morose.

“Emma be careful” Mary Margret hushed beside her, “Won’t you tell us where you are going? He could be coming after you.”

“You know I can’t tell you, but I promise to send you a note to let you know I’m okay” Emma said turning into her side and giving her a hug.

She knew Mary Margret would worry about her but there was nothing for it, Emma was ready to move on and leave this life behind. Jones had really affected her in a way she had never imagined anyone could. It was hard to shake this.

“Agent Swann” Regina called in her commanding voice, “I know we’ve never been friends, but you were a damn good agent and I’ll miss you like hell, replacing you may prove to be an impossible task.” 

The two women shook hands and Emma was pleased to note she had made some sort of lasting impression on the woman.  

“Calm down! Calm down!” he repeated, “The mad-man who killed my daughter has escaped from jail and you want me to calm down?”

It had been Belle’s poor lot to have been exiting the elevator when Mr. Gold had tried to enter it.  

“You” Mr. Gold shouted upon noticing Emma, “this is all your fault!”

Emma held her ground and allowed Mr. Gold to take his anger out on her for a moment. Since the night of the raid and ensuing manhunt for his estranged brother Mr. Gold had staunchly refused to believe anyone but Killian could have killed Mia, even having been presented with the evidence. He wouldn’t believe until Malcolm Gold was in FBI custody and had admitted to everything.

~~~~***~~~~

Emma’s two cats, Baloo and Bagheera greeted her at the door to her dark apartment and she suddenly felt bad for forgetting to turn the light on.

“Hey guys did you miss me?” She asked them, taking off her coat. She walked to the kitchen and filled their food dishes as they weaved in and out of legs. 

Emma sat down to remove her shoes and rubbed at her swollen ankles, she really needed to rest perhaps later she’d take a long hot bath. As Emma made her way down the hall she slowly divested herself of her clothing, taking one piece off at a time. Her top was the first to go, stretching her back until it cracked pleasingly. Her bra, her pants, and finally her panties littered the hallway. By the time she reached the doorway to her room she was completely naked. 

She flicked on her light, and there was Killian Jones, laying on her bed waiting for her.

“Right where I left you” she said with a coy smile.

He blinked in the sudden harsh light he tried to move, get up to go to her but he was tied to the bed.

He was naked, hands cuffed behind his back locking him firmly to the bed, a gag ball in his mouth and a purple plug shoved up his arse. He was half hard at the sight of her and Emma smiled ever so pleased with herself. He looked like he was in real pain not being able to touch her. 

She walked towards the bed slowly popping her hips with every step. 

“These are the rules” she said seductively “If I ask you to my bed, it means I want you, and I _always_ get what I want.” She knelt down on the bed beside him and took his silky cock into her hand slowly pumping her fist around it. 

“Sometimes, I like it rough” she said twisting the head of his cock to prove her point. “If I ask you to fuck my cunt with your tongue you will do so without complaint.” Her bright green eyes gazed intently at him through her lashes in a way she knew he liked.

She leaned in close over him, her long hair tickling his taunt chest. “Also you are not allowed to kiss me, that is too intimate an act for what I run here. If I want to kiss you, then I’ll do so and not before. Is that understood?”

He vigorously nodded his head and made a garbled noise behind the gag in his mouth.

“What was that, I couldn’t hear you, Captain?” she teased playfully running her painted nail across the corner of his swollen lips before continuing on with her list of demands. “Also you may have heard others refer to me as Swan, but _you_ will call me Mistress. If I ask you a question you will answer ‘yes Mistress’ or ‘no Mistress,’ am I clear?”

Jones’ makes a sound that could be the affirmative Emma was looking for but again, it’s hard to tell with the gag. Emma lifts one of her legs, easily straddling Jones’ narrow hips, his hard cock gently nudges her already wet pussy and it takes all her self-control not to simply impale herself on him. She angles her head so her lips are by his ear and she exhales several times before continuing. This is her power play, she is the home team this time and reciting Jones’ first speech to her back at him is pure pleasure in a way she has never experienced before. This is her coup de grace. 

“I will not always ask for your permission, however if there is something you desperately object to you may use the word “ _parley_ ” to get out of it.” She watches from the corner of her eye as his eyes widen in understanding. She’s giving him an out. All the plans they’ve made, this _thing_ they’ve built between them can all end right here, tonight, if he gives the word. It will break her heart if it does; she has given up everything for him, her job, Mary Margret and David, basically her whole life to run away with this man she’s barely known for a month. 

Killian has gone very still beneath her, weighing his options Emma imagines. Suddenly he gives a jolt of his hips, causing the hard ridge of his cock to run right across Emma’s pert nub. A gasp she can’t stop escapes her lips, he feels so good. She takes that as a yes. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this intending for it to be a one shot, just a quick idea that jumped into my head today. Depending on response and any other ideas that are forth coming I may continue with it.


End file.
